


Sozin's Bay

by Blue_Lacquer



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-06
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-13 23:39:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 28,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3400484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Lacquer/pseuds/Blue_Lacquer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mai and Zuko run into each other in the colonies.  She's accompanying her father on a business trip.  He's having his ship outfitted for a voyage to the South Pole in search of the Avatar.  This chance encounter stirs up long dormant feelings and leaves both of them wondering if they'll ever see each other again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: Letters

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on livejournal.

Mai stood at her bedroom window watching a flock of fire sparrows wheel around the royal palace in the rapidly fading sunlight. She hoped Zuko would get her letter. She had no idea where he was, so she was counting on the hawk being directed properly at the Fire Nation communications towers. She knew her message could take weeks to reach his ship. But the letter was addressed to Zuko's uncle, who was not banished, and she knew the communications officers would make every effort to see that the Fire Lord's brother got his mail.

She hoped General Iroh would not be too confused, or angry. She was counting on him to give Zuko the letter and not burn it or, worse, tell anyone else about it. He would have to open it to know it wasn't for him, since she had not dared to leave any clue that it wasn't on the outside. The scroll bore a ribbon from the Ministry of Colonial Affairs, where her father worked, and a 'confidential' seal, from her father's own desk. Mai had accepted the probability of Zuko's uncle reading her words and thinking she was an extremely silly love-struck girl. She didn't care what he thought of her, as long as he passed her message on. She had only met the General a handful of times, but she knew he and his nephew were close. She hoped they were close enough that the man would be willing to do this favor for the boy.

The sun set and the cloud of birds dissipated on the wind. She sighed. Her plan to send the letter from her father's office--her least risky option--had gone smoothly. She couldn't send it from home because her mother had tasked the family servants with watching her in case she decided to do anything stupid (like send a banished prince a letter telling him she loved him). Every time she glanced over her shoulder, she spotted one of them spying on her. Ty Lee might have been willing to send the letter for her, but Ty Lee would not be able to keep quiet about it. She visited her father's office sometimes to deliver messages from her mother, or when she was exceptionally bored, and the workers there knew her. No one paid any attention when she walked in after school because she was the Deputy Chancellor's quiet, well-behaved daughter. She exchanged greetings with her father and sat watching the activity in the courtyard below the window until he left his office briefly. Within one minute the letter was prepared and sitting inconspicuously in a tall stack of scrolls waiting to be sent. The Ministry sent and received such a large quantity of mail every day--some of it oddly marked, coming from far-flung colonies with irregular mail systems--that she doubted anyone would notice it.

She was calculating how long she should wait before getting her hopes up for a reply when the door to her room opened. Without looking, Mai knew it was her mother and knew she was angry. A maid would have knocked first. Usually, her mother would have too. She turned toward the door and her heart sank heavily. Her mother clutched a wrinkled scroll in her hands.

"Mai."

"Mother."

Her mother unfurled the scroll and pointed an accusing finger, although her voice was steady. "You thought you wouldn't get caught, did you? It was a clever plan. But I asked your father's secretary to monitor all the correspondence at his office."

Mai didn't deny anything, but cursed herself for not expecting this. She thought her father's workplace was free of her mother's influence, but she was wrong. When her mother was determined to do something or, more often, keep Mai from doing something, there was no stopping the woman.

Her mother continued with exasperation. "You know you can't write to him. You may not care about anything, but you're not the only one who could suffer for this. We could all be in trouble because of your actions. If the Fire Lord found out about this, your father could lose everything he's worked so hard for his entire life. He could lose his position. We could lose our home! Did you think about that? Do you think everyone has a life like this?"

Mai stifled a yawn. Here was the part where her mother reminded her that the family was rich. Her mother's own upbringing had been cursed with the combination of noble lineage and no money. Her mother's father ruined the family's fortune through a series of bad business investments and they lost everything--their land, their house, their priceless family heirlooms--except their aristocratic attitude.

Her mother went on. "We are among the lucky few. Of course you wouldn't know any better. You're spoiled, Mai, and selfish. You don't know what it's like for most people, struggling to survive. Well, _I_ know. We have to protect what we have. We've all had to make sacrifices in this family and you have to learn that you do too. I can't believe you're ready to ruin your family--your family, the only one you'll ever have--for the sake of a silly crush."

Mai narrowed her eyes. People could say a lot of things about her and she didn't care, but that comment made her angry. "It's not _silly_ ," she said.

Her mother said sharply, "You are thirteen years old, Mai. You think you love that boy but you don't. You don't know anything about love."

Mai sat down on her bed. A lump swelled in her throat and she willed the nascent tears away. She knew from long experience that crying would only make her mother angrier. She said, "I'm not feeling well. I'd like to lie down."

Her mother sighed and continued in a slightly softened tone, "Listen, it may seem like the end of the world now, but it's not. There are plenty of other boys out there. I know, they aren't princes." There was a pause, but Mai didn't speak. "I admit, this is partly my fault. I was overwhelmed by the Fire Lord's son noticing you when he could have any girl he wants. I guess I pushed you toward him too hard. I just didn't expect you to get so attached. I thought you knew better than to let your feelings get out of control like this."

Mai's eyes widened and she almost laughed. Her mother really thought her relationship with Zuko was social climbing. The woman did not understand her or Zuko or what had happened at all. And she was deluded if she thought Mai would ever kiss a boy just because he was supposed to be a good catch.

Her mother came and stood next to the bed. "But prince or not, he's not worth putting yourself--and your family--at risk." She looked Mai up and down, evaluating, and smiled a little. "You know, you can get yourself a very fine young man if you try. You just need to be a little more upbeat, more of a people person. Maybe stop wearing such dark clothes. You'll have another boyfriend before you know it. Trust me."

Mai just barely bit back her response: _If Dad disappeared tomorrow, would you have another husband before you knew it_? Her mother probably would. She loved her husband, but she loved the lifestyle he could provide for her much more. There were other rich men who could give her that. Of course she didn't think that losing a particular boy should matter this much to Mai.

Her mother held up the letter and said, "Mai, please understand, I can't let you do this. I promise you, if you try to contact him again, I _will_ find out about it. And I will do what I have to do to keep this entire family safe."

"And what would that be, if I may ask?"

"I will send you away."

Mai sighed and crossed her arms over her chest. Her mother didn't need to say where--she meant the infamous Black Sand Island School for Wayward Youth, the Boiling Rock for juvenile delinquents.

Her mother added, "You don't appreciate it now, but this is for your protection too." She turned back toward the door. "Dinner will be served soon."

"I'm not hungry."

Her mother started to protest, but changed her mind. "All right. I'll tell your father you're not feeling well." At the door, she stopped and said, "I don't _want_ things to come to that, Mai. Please don't push me." And she left.

Mai glanced back to the window, but she didn't want to look at the lights of the royal palace, red and gold against the night sky. A thought flashed in her mind that perhaps her uncle would help her--she had always been his favorite. Perhaps he would be willing to send a letter to General Iroh for her. She frowned, rejecting the plan. He would not help her break the terms of a banishment.

She drew her favorite dagger out of her sleeve, flicking the three pointed blade open and shut in a rhythmic pattern several times before flinging it at the wall. Tears welled in her vision and she pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes. Her anger at her mother was eclipsed by her anger at herself. She knew she didn't have the courage to try to contact Zuko again. She was too afraid of what would happen to her if she did.

***

Zuko paced the deck of the ship. It would be a week before he reached land near the Eastern Air Temple and another week at least before he arrived at the Temple itself. The search of the Western Temple yielded no information about the Avatar's identity. The Fire Nation force that attacked the Air Nomads there destroyed the temple library, but he found a few scrolls scattered throughout the buildings. One was a history of the life of Avatar Yangchen, but he wasn't looking for her. Another was a collection of haiku about leaves--swirling leaves, falling leaves, budding leaves--which was supposed to be some kind of meditation on life, but only left him with an urge to burn leaves. There was also a list of pie recipes, which attracted his uncle's interest. There were other odd, trivial things as well, none of which had the faintest connection to the Avatar.

He wished he could practice bending, but his burn was still too fresh. He had attempted to fire bend earlier and almost passed out from the flare of pain in his wound before he even managed a spark. It seemed like his face hurt more every day. He knew the reasons why--the nerves were regenerating, the chi flowing in the area again--but it still seemed wrong in a visceral way. Wounds were supposed to hurt less with time, not more. He worked some with his swords, but he got tired so quickly he couldn't do much. He had trouble sleeping, sometimes waking up more tired than he was when he went to bed.

Zuko hated having nothing to do but wait. He kept his hands behind his back to stop himself from clawing at the constant itch gnawing at the edges of the wound. Generous slathers of soothing ointment lessened but did not stop the need to scratch the healing skin. The pain was bad, but he could at least distance himself from it in his mind. The itching was maddening because it demanded interaction.

A brisk wind blew against his face, cooling the side not covered by the bandage. He stopped pacing to look through the telescope at a tiny island in the distance, so small it didn't even have trees. A flock of tern-gulls circled it. He scanned the gray rocks, searching for signs of life. All he could see were fish trapped in small pools of water, easy prey for the birds, and some slimy-looking brown algae. He turned away from the telescope, gripping the railing. His uncle came to stand by him.

"We've had two hawks today, Prince Zuko."

"Anything about the Avatar?" His uncle knew a rare scroll dealer on Whale Tail Island who promised to send copies of whatever she could find on the Avatar to the ship. None of what they'd received so far held any clues about the last Avatar. The Air Nomads had kept their secret well.

His uncle perused the new post and said, "I'm afraid not," although he didn't sound sorry. He read through the scrolls, then rolled them back up and stowed them in his pockets. Zuko didn't ask what was in the letters. If either of them concerned him, the ship, or the Avatar, Iroh would give them to him to read. His uncle knew people all over the world and got a surprisingly large quantity of personal mail, most of which seemed to be about pai sho. He had several games by post going. Zuko couldn't imagine pai sho being more boring, but having to wait days or even weeks to make a move would do it.

His uncle said, "I have been meaning to ask you something, Nephew."

"What?"

"I wondered if you wished to send letters to anyone at home."

Zuko frowned and gripped the railing tighter. "You know I can't."

Iroh smiled slyly. "But I can."

He crossed his arms and turned to his uncle, wondering why the man was bringing this up. He had enough on his mind, trying to figure out how to track someone who'd been missing for a hundred years, without a name or even a face to guide him. When he was able to fire bend again, he had a lot of work to do to catch up in his training. He didn't have time to waste sending clandestine letters to people, like a character in some ridiculous melodrama.

"I can't break the terms of banishment," he answered. "I don't have anything to say to anyone back home anyway." He certainly had nothing to say to his sister, and his father wanted to hear nothing from him except _I have found the Avatar_. There was only one person he would consider writing to, and he had sworn he wouldn't think about her anymore. Mai would forget him soon enough--she would certainly forget him before he forgot her. She had her entire life still in the capital city: family and school and friends. He had nothing but the quest for the Avatar.

His uncle paused. "Are you certain?"

"Yes."

His uncle looked saddened by that statement, and Zuko turned away. Writing to Mai would not do either of them any good. If she missed him, he couldn't promise her he would come home. If her parents found out she was communicating with him, she would be punished. If his father found out, her entire family could be punished. She most likely did not miss him and did not want to hear from him. Of course she would know by now what had happened--the entire shameful story. He was just glad she hadn't been there to see it.

She was lucky that they had never been formally recognized as being in a relationship. They were together for such a short time before his banishment that most people at court did not even know she was his girlfriend. He wasn't entirely sure his father knew. He never told his father, and if Azula or a servant reported it, he never heard about it. His father was always so busy with the war, sometimes family matters slipped by unnoticed or at least unremarked. But he felt Mai would be spared any stigma from associating with him. She was at least still in his sister's favor, as far as he knew, and that would make life much easier for her.

His uncle said, "The offer stands, if you change your mind."

"I won't."

He looked through the telescope again, but there was nothing to see except the vast ocean. He was angry at his uncle for distracting him and angry at himself for being so easily distracted. He had to stop thinking about the past and focus on his mission. It was a sign of weakness, pining for things that were lost. That was why he was in this situation. He had been weak, letting his feelings get the better of him, and he compounded his failure by acting disrespectfully in his father's presence. He would suffer for his mistakes, but it would be for the best in the end. His father had the fate of the entire Fire Nation to think about and could afford mercy for no one, not even his son. If Zuko was not good enough to be the next Fire Lord, then his father had to fix him or let him die. He wanted to be fixed, to prove he was worthy to his father and to the country. He could not allow anything to interfere with his hunt for the Avatar, especially not his own treacherous feelings. His duty to the Fire Lord and the Fire Nation came before anything else: friends, family, love. Regaining his honor was all that mattered--everything else was a ghost from the past.

His uncle walked around to his other side and continued the conversation. "Tonight the cook is trying one of the pie recipes we found. It took him a while to figure out how to mix the filling without air bending."

He pulled away from the telescope, scowling, and replied, "I don't need pie. I need to find the Avatar."

"Perhaps by partaking of the food of the Air Nomads, inspiration will come to you as to the Avatar's location."

Zuko winced at that comment. "If there's anyone here who would be inspired by food, it's you." Iroh grinned. Zuko folded his arms over his chest. "There has to be _something_ at the Air Temples. Something that was overlooked in the previous searches."

His uncle said nothing. The two of them stood at the railing watching the sun descend. When he found the Avatar--and he would--he would have his honor back, have his home and his throne and his father back, but there were some things he'd lost that even finding the Avatar would not restore.


	2. Business Trip

Mai arrived at the teashop where her father said he would rendezvous with her after the meeting of the Banking Subcommittee of the Colonial Trade Commission ended. The name "Mr. Tea" was written in glittery gold paint on a wooden sign over the door, above a drawing of a muscular young man triumphantly hefting a teapot that was almost as big as he was. The large window was lined with lanterns in a multitude of colors, as were many shop fronts in the town. She could see the docks from this spot, near the top of the steep hill leading up from the harbor. There were several Fire Navy ships in port.

She sighed and entered, prepared for a long wait. She couldn't remember her father ever getting away from a meeting on time. Even on the rare occasion the event ended on schedule, he would inevitably be pulled aside to talk privately with one of the participants. It was his curse, being known as the man who got things done in the Ministry. That was why he'd been dragged off to this colonial tourist trap to spend a week in endless meetings with the bankers, guild officials, and colony administrators of the Trade Commission. When the Fire Nation captains of industry wanted someone from the Ministry to pose for a public appearance, they called on the Chancellor. When they wanted someone to actually do something, they called on her father.

She ordered oolong tea, musing that she could add another name to the list of boring colony towns she'd visited. Before arriving, she'd had some hope that Sozin's Bay might be interesting because of its reputation for licentiousness. The town was famous for its dance and gambling halls, known in the local lingo as "social clubs" (the polite term) or "go-gos" (the slang term). All kinds of salacious activities were supposed to take place in the go-gos, including naked dancing. Her mother was angry about her father being sent here, especially since she could not come along to keep an eye on him. Tom Tom was only three months old, too young for such a long journey, and she refused to leave him home with his nanny. The woman had been torn between wanting Mai to go to keep her father from getting into trouble and wanting Mai to stay home so she wouldn't get into trouble herself. She decided Mai needed to go after a particularly heated argument between the two of them following Tom Tom's formal naming ceremony. The tension between mother and daughter had only gotten worse since the birth of the family's utterly unexpected second child and they both needed time away from each other.

Her mother's fears about the family being corrupted by this den of vice were unfounded. Mai's father had too much work to do to have time for anything shady. Almost every moment he wasn't asleep in bed he spent meeting with officials eager to gain his support for their pet schemes. Mai herself found the infamous Sozin's Bay boring, under the veneer of titillation. Once she became accustomed to seeing what her mother called vulgar appetites on display (which took surprisingly little time), she realized that life here was not fundamentally different from life in the capital. In both places, most people seemed to devote much of their lives to trying to get more for themselves--power, money, glory, whatever. The list of things people could always want _more_ of was apparently endless.

When she and her father met the Governor, they got a local history lesson, although she did not particularly want one and she didn't believe her father wanted one either. The town had long been a major Earth Kingdom port and shipyard and acquired countless bars and taverns over the years to keep sailors, traders, dock workers, and travelers entertained. When the port was captured seventy years ago, the first Fire Nation governor realized he could make his job much easier by allowing the social club owners to keep their lucrative businesses in exchange for political support. His successors saw no need to change a mutually beneficial arrangement, so the town continued on much as it had under Earth Kingdom rule.

Her tea arrived and while it cooled she glanced around the shop, which was not busy at the moment. The place was decorated in the distinct Sozin's Bay style, which was "random jumble of stuff in eye-searing colors": red carpet with gold dragon designs, yellow, white and pink striped wallpaper, paintings in wildly different styles--soft watercolors, charcoal sketches, dark oils. The tables almost matched, since they were all square and dark, but they were different shades of black and brown wood and had different styles of leg. The entire town was a mishmash, with streets that went from wood to brick to cobblestone from block to block. Buildings had odd-angled roofs, or were painted a different color on each side, or had doors that opened on to nothing or misshapen windows. If this was what the place looked like after over a half century of Fire Nation rule, she couldn't imagine what it must have been like before.

Worst of all were all the lights covering almost everything everywhere. Once the sun was down, the entire town lit up like it was on fire. Her first night here, she got a headache from all the clashing, flashing colors. There were lamps that spun like tops, an invention she never wanted to see in the Fire Nation. As much as the colors and lights irritated her, they were not nearly as unpleasant as the sounds and smells: loud jangling dance music, screaming drunks, and of course puking drunks. The smell of urine and vomit would occasionally waft by while she walked down the street, despite the sharp sea breeze.

Despite all this, she wasn't surprised that Sozin's Bay was chosen as the site for the Colonial Trade Commission's first conference. The idea was that if a bunch of politicians and administrators from all of the colonies and the Fire Nation spent a week together, some of the lingering squabbles over taxes, tariffs, and regulations could be resolved. The publicly stated reason for holding the conference here was that the town was halfway between the Fire Nation and the easternmost colonies, but there were other reasons that were not publicly stated.

No one at home wanted to admit it, but the military was stretched so thin that security in the colonies was a serious problem. Her father's Ministry colleagues occasionally grumbled among themselves about the dangers they and their families faced while traveling, but no one dared complain publicly. Sozin's Bay was much more stable than most colony towns because the long-standing alliance between the Fire Nation government and the Earth Kingdom club owners did help keep rebels out. Conference attendees might get their pockets picked, but were unlikely to be attacked by resistance fighters. A few weeks earlier, a Fire Nation mine north of Omashu had been attacked by Earth Kingdom guerrillas, the sixth significant assault this year. But here in Sozin's Bay, there hadn't been any hint of trouble. The conference goers and their guests hadn't even been assigned guards, for which Mai was grateful. Guards spent most of their time telling her she couldn't do things and she had proven she was a better fighter than many of them, despite not being a fire bender.

There was another unspoken reason the conference was here, aside from security--to give a bunch of overstressed bureaucrats a chance to let their hair down in a place where their families and friends back home were unlikely to hear about it. There was a saying, "What happens in Sozin's Bay, stays in Sozin's Bay."

She sipped her tea slowly. Her stay was almost over--she and her father would return to the Fire Nation the day after tomorrow. She was relieved to be going home. Home was boring, but at least it wasn't ugly, loud, stinky, tacky _and_ boring.


	3. Port of Call

Zuko stood in front of yet another set of shelves heavy with an assortment of random junk: creepy dolls, fake jewelry, china with nautical patterns. His uncle was thrilled by the wide selection and reasonable prices. "Uncle," he said, "would you make up your mind already? This is the third shop we've been in this morning. We should get back to the ship. Who knows what's going wrong with the repairs?"

"Relax, Nephew. The dock crews here in Sozin's Bay have plenty of experience working with Fire Navy ships. I'm sure everything is going smoothly."

"How long does it take to find a birthday present anyway?"

"It doesn't take long to find _a_ birthday present. It's finding the _right_ birthday present that takes time."

"Why do we have to do this now?"

"This is the last chance I will have to shop before we travel to the South Pole."

Zuko peered out the shop window, but buildings blocked the view of the docks and his ship. Looking in the other direction, he could see the buildings around the town's central square at the top of the hill. In the center was the town hall, a utilitarian, dark gray stone square four stories tall. On the left was the long, three story hotel overlooking the sea on one side and a garden on the other, lined with balconies for the upper rooms. On the right was a Fire Nation cultural center, formerly a temple to the Avatar, by far the grandest structure in the area, with elaborately carved wooden doors and a gleaming gold tile roof, although it was nothing compared to the buildings back home. On the narrow streets around the square were the respectable local businesses: restaurants, clothing boutiques, antique shops, the upscale social clubs. The attractiveness of the shops and the quality of items and services available descended with the slope of the land. At the bottom of the hill were the docks. Facing the docks were a line of rough taverns, unsanitary-looking noodle shops, and low-rent social clubs.

He turned from the window and said, "We can't afford to find anything wrong with the work while we're by ourselves in the middle of nowhere."

Iroh did not respond. He was inspecting a small, black enamel box, decorated with a red-billed heron with outstretched wings. He opened the box and smiled as it played the tune from one of his favorite songs, "Four Seasons, Four Loves." He put it back down and said, "I like it, but I'm not sure Lt. Jee will." Suddenly, Iroh clapped his hands together and exclaimed, "This is the thing!"

"Finally," Zuko muttered. His uncle pulled the object that attracted his attention off the shelf and held it up. It was a round, broad-brimmed red hat, with a red silk band and gold feathers trailing off the back.

Iroh put the hat on and peered in a jade-framed mirror on display. "What do you think?"

"Uh, Uncle. I think that's a woman's hat."

"What? Why do you say that?"

"Li and Lo used to have a matching pair like it." Zuko remembered those hats because his sister had suggested burning the feathers off of them and then claimed the idea was his when they were caught. He was seven or eight when that happened.

"Well, that's a pity. It's quite handsome." Iroh took the hat off and said cheerfully, "I guess we'll have to keep looking."

Zuko followed his uncle back out into the street, his irritation building. Iroh stopped and gazed wistfully at another poster advertising the pai sho tournament that had just started in town. Zuko looked away--they had already discussed this and sad eyes would not move him. They were docking for five days, which was plenty of time to get everything ready for sailing to the South Pole, and not a moment longer. Coming here for repairs and supplies had been his uncle's idea, but he hadn't understood why the man had been so enthusiastic about it until he saw the signs for the tournament. Iroh had argued that he could win the championship, but that was the problem. This was one of the biggest tournaments in the world, with the most skilled players in the world competing. These high-level games could drag on for hours, sometimes days, and if Iroh entered for the grand prize who knew how long they would be stuck here while he worked his way through all the rounds of play.

Even if Zuko hadn't been searching for the Avatar, he would not have wanted to stay in this ugly, vulgar town long. They had stopped in Sozin's Bay last year, while searching the western Earth Kingdom coast, and he'd had a particularly embarrassing false alarm here. A vagrant man claimed to have seen an ancient man with blue arrows on his face and arms. Zuko spent two feverish days hunting all through the town, but the mystery man turned out to be just another vagrant. The suspected Avatar sometimes slept on large bags of rice behind a grocer's. The symbol on the bags was a blue arrow and the cheap dye stained the man's skin, giving him temporary markings. Zuko set every bag of rice in the grocery on fire in a rage. His uncle apologized profusely and paid the grocer twice what the rice was worth for the damage.

Zuko had not thought much of the town then and he didn't think much of it now. It was dirty and disordered, full of people even his uncle had to admit were probably criminals, lowlifes who lived for vice, and respectable people who should know better seduced by the lure of the social clubs. The only good thing about stopping here was he was much less likely to run into anyone who witnessed the Agni Kai than at a Fire Navy base. He scowled, remembering the last time he met someone who had been there. It was a year and a half ago, but he could still clearly hear Capt. Zhao's sneering insults, delivered when his uncle wasn't around to hear, that had left him reeling like his scar had been ripped open. He shook his head, forcing the foul memory away with an effort.

"I think," his uncle said, tearing himself away from the poster when he realized Zuko wouldn't respond, "we should take a break."

"Yes, let's go back to the ship."

"If you wish, Prince Zuko." They rounded a corner, and his uncle added, "But first, let's get some tea."

Before Zuko could protest, Iroh was heading for a gaudy sign that read "Mr. Tea" in gold paint. Zuko gritted his teeth and followed him. If the ship was in pieces when they got back, it was his uncle's fault.


	4. Tea Time

Mai downed the last of her tea. She had been waiting for her father for almost an hour and had stretched her cup of oolong that far, although the time was well below her record of an hour and a half. She scanned her menu, pondering what to order next. The ragweed tea sounded horrifying, but at least it was something she'd never had before. If she tried it, she would be able to tell Ty Lee all about the ghastly ragweed tea in the colonies when she got home. Her friend would make amusing sour faces just listening to the description.

She hoped her father would arrive soon so they could get on with the afternoon shopping, not that she was looking forward to it. Her mother may think Sozin's Bay was a den of iniquity, but she was also a money-conscious shopper and never passed up an opportunity for bargain hunting. This time she had to do it by proxy, and she'd given Mai a list of items--linens, dishes, and other housewares--to look for that would likely be cheaper here than at home. Judging by what Mai had seen displayed in front of shops while walking around town, she didn't expect to find much that was up to her mother's exacting standards. If she didn't buy things, her mother would be annoyed, and if she bought things her mother didn't like, her mother would be annoyed. The family didn't even need any of the things on the list--her mother just enjoyed having new stuff.

She tapped her nails on the table, glancing around. There were more customers in the shop now than when she arrived, but none of them were particularly interesting looking. Earlier, a group of men had come in carrying musical instrument cases and wearing matching white straw hats and pink feather boas. They hadn't done anything unusual, just sat and drank tea and talked, but it was a sight she would never have seen back home. No one else in the shop seemed to find their attire unusual, which said a lot about Sozin's Bay. She sighed, hoping someone interesting would come in, or at least someone shady-looking, perhaps a robber. She might fight a robber, she might not--she wasn't really in the mood for a battle right now.

She decided to order the ragweed tea. She turned her head away from the door of the shop, searching for a waiter. The bell on the door jingled and she almost stopped breathing as a new sound hit her ears like a blow. She kept her face turned away and listened, trying to make sure she heard what she thought she did.

It was a young man's voice, ringing through the room. "Uncle, we don't have time for this!"

She knew the voice, although it had changed from the last time she heard it, sounded deeper, more masculine, more adult. But she recognized the distinctive rasp and the irritated tone. She looked at the floor, shielding her face with her hand as two people passed her table. She glanced up and spotted them taking seats four tables away. Well, she had hoped someone interesting would walk in and now she got her wish.

Zuko and his uncle were sitting so she could see them in profile. She held the tea menu in front of her face to give herself some cover as she stared at them. She felt foolish doing this, but her instinct was to wait and watch, at least until she recovered from the shock. She would've expected a herd of wild rhinos to stampede into the building before she expected Zuko to stroll in.

Mai had excellent eyesight, one of the keys to her shurikenjutsu skill, and she could see Zuko clearly from this distance. Two years had changed his appearance as well as his voice. He was taller and had started building a grown man's weight and muscle. It took her a moment to register that he was bald except for an extravagantly long topknot. It was an odd look, and she wasn't sure what she thought of it. From this angle, she couldn't see any scar, but she knew he had one. She knew what happened at the Agni Kai--her father witnessed it.

She shifted her gaze to Zuko's uncle. He had gained a lot of weight since she last saw him and looked grayer and older, but he had the same calm, thoughtful demeanor she remembered. He sipped his tea with obvious appreciation. As the steam swirled around his face, his eyes suddenly darted straight to hers. She was so surprised by the quick movement she didn't look away. For a moment, their eyes locked. Most people would have barely noticed the slight shift in his expression and posture, but Mai was well-versed in the significance of subtle gestures and small motions. She knew he recognized her and she knew he regarded her with caution. There were benign reasons why the daughter of one of the Fire Nation's leading colonial administrators would be here. There were also less benign reasons why a close friend of the Fire Lord's daughter--known for her enmity toward her brother--would be here.

Mai decided. She was not offended by General Iroh's suspicion--he barely knew her and had his nephew to protect. But she did not _like_ the idea of the man wondering if she were here to harm Zuko in some way. She put her menu down, smiled, and held out her hands, palms toward him. He nodded briefly. Without any words, she had asked if she could speak to him and he had accepted.

"Pardon me, Prince Zuko," he said, "but I must excuse myself for a moment."

Zuko was busy examining a map unrolled on their table and waved his uncle off without a word.

General Iroh left the table and walked toward the back of the teashop. Mai followed him, skirting wide around Zuko's table, although he was so engrossed in his own thoughts she could probably walk right past him and he wouldn't notice. Soon she and the General stood by a life-size statue of a platypus bear dressed in a huge blue kimono that guarded the doors to the washrooms. Both of them looked at it for a moment, baffled. Zuko's uncle grinned. Mai did not grin, but she was amused that such a weird, tawdry place was named after the great and glorious Fire Lord Sozin.

Mai bowed to General Iroh. He said, "A pleasant surprise, seeing you here, Mai." He studied her with a polite but scrutinizing air. "You've grown up since I last saw you."

She felt more like she'd grown old. "I'm surprised you remember me."

"I have a good memory for people."

She supposed it helped that Zuko didn't have many friends to remember. "I didn't mean to surprise you," she said. "My father's here for the trade committee conference. I'm keeping him company and doing some discount shopping for my mother."

"You are a dutiful daughter."

She shrugged and got to the point. "I just wanted you to know this has nothing to do with Princess Azula. I didn't have any idea Prince Zuko would be here. If I were here working for her, I wouldn't have let you catch me off guard like that." Zuko's uncle showed neither obvious trust nor distrust of her statement. She felt ridiculous doing this, but she had no way to prove she wasn't a threat other than her own words, so she bowed again and vowed solemnly, "May the sun go dark if I speak falsely."

General Iroh smiled slightly. "I don't often hear the old oaths from young people."

She shrugged again. Her father's father had taught them to her. "I'll leave you to your tea, General."

"Oh, I'm retired." He paused briefly, considering, and then asked, "Did you wish to speak to Prince Zuko?"

She felt her cheeks flush and she stammered, "I…don't know." She hadn't expected such an offer. She still couldn't quite believe Zuko was sitting in the same teashop and the prospect of speaking to him didn't seem real. She had no idea what she would say. Her mind coughed up a flippant _Hey, Zuko. Long time no see. How's the banishment treating you?_ She asked, "Would he want to talk to me? I don't want to impose."

"Honestly, it is difficult for me to tell. Things have not been easy for him since he left home. His feelings about many things are confused right now."

"I think I would like to see him."

General Iroh nodded. "Do you have any evenings free?"

"All my evenings are free," she said. "My father's been working through meals since we got here." That night, he was supposed to have a private dinner with the Chancellor of the Ministry and the Trade Committee Chairman.

The General asked, "Well, why don't you dine on our ship tonight? I cannot promise that Prince Zuko will be receptive to seeing you, but I will try to convince him." He smiled. "And it is a shame for a young lady to be left to dine alone in an unfamiliar place when she could have company."

She did not expect this offer either, but she accepted. Even if Zuko didn't want to see her, it would give her something different to do tonight. Her previous alternative to dining alone was dining with Governor Rao's daughters and she refused to do it, since her mother was not here to make her and her father did not notice her snubbing them. People at home thought Ty Lee was stupid, but she was just easily excited and easily distracted. Rao's daughters, however, were true morons and listening to the two of them babble grated Mai's ears.

She told the General she was staying in the hotel at the top of the hill, since the Chancellor and the Chairman and their entourages had filled up the Governor's residence. Zuko's uncle said he would send an officer to escort her to the ship at seven o'clock.

General Iroh then re-joined his nephew. He finished his tea while Zuko chastised him again for derailing their schedule. Mai lingered by the statue of the platypus bear until they were gone, then sat back down to wait for her father, her stomach fluttering and her heart racing. She hadn't seen Zuko for two years and she had _no idea_ what would happen now. She was afraid.


	5. Old Friends

Zuko sat silent and still in his quarters, the candles before him igniting and extinguishing with his steady breath. There was the distant sound of a drill, but he barely noticed. His uncle tried to persuade him that they should stay at the hotel while the repairs were being made to get away from the noise, but there was so much noise on the ship normally that the work didn't make much difference. The hotel was likely full anyway, with all the pai sho players in town. Even if there were rooms available, he preferred staying on the ship. It was an old, small ship, but it was his.

Despite his uncle's repeated attempts to waste time on tea, shopping and pai sho, they were still on schedule. After tea that morning, Iroh had dragged him to two more shops, but the elusive present for Lt. Jee had finally been acquired. His uncle selected a print of a very rare bird known as the gold-crested humming-pheasant, only found in the vast steppes surrounding the city of Omashu. Zuko thought it was a bizarre looking creature, but Iroh seemed sure that Lt. Jee, being a bird watcher, would like it.

Meditation had calmed his mind. Thoughts swirled in his head in an easy way, drifting on a breeze rather than roaring on a gale--memories, plans, questions. He had been to locations at the edge of the polar sea--the Southern Air Temple, Whale Tail Island--but not to the South Pole itself. It would be a dangerous journey, traveling alone through isolated, icy waters famed for rough, unpredictable weather. The crew was apprehensive. But the South Pole was one of the major regions he had not yet searched and they had to go sooner or later. Perhaps there would be some clue hidden among the remnants of the Southern Water Tribe. His father, his grandfather, and his great-grandfather had all circled the world in search of the Avatar and found nothing. He had searched for two years and found nothing. But he would continue the hunt as long as he had life in him.

There was a knock at his door, which he recognized as his uncle. He called, "Come in."

"Prince Zuko," Iroh greeted him. "Forgive my intrusion, but it is time we dressed for dinner. We have a guest."

"I told you last night," Zuko said, irritation rising, "I'm not dining with those pai sho people again. I can't take another night sitting around listening to you argue about tile painting styles." His uncle had responded to not being allowed to enter the tournament by inviting competitors to dine and play with him on the ship. The previous evening, there had been a motley, talkative group in the dining room, including a man who carried his pet terrier iguana everywhere, a woman with a monocle, and an ancient man who claimed his longevity was due to eating only rice, kumquats, and red bean paste. It had been the most boring evening of Zuko's life, even more boring than Li and Lo's endless double birthday parties.

"Oh, it's not someone from the tournament I've invited," his uncle said. "It's someone you know."

Zuko snapped his head around and asked suspiciously, "Who?"

"A friend of yours, from home," his uncle said mildly. "Mai."

Zuko jumped from his seat quickly enough to knock it over and yelled, " _What_? _Mai_? She's coming _here_? _Tonight_?" He wanted to believe this was a prank, but his uncle's sense of humor didn't run in that direction.

"She'll be here in about an hour." Iroh quickly stepped back to avoid the flame that roared from Zuko's mouth.

Zuko stood still for a moment, breathing deep and slow, trying to get himself back under control. Of all the people in the Fire Nation, his uncle had to run into his ex-girlfriend. He spoke through clenched teeth, holding back another burst of fire. "Why is she here? Is Azula here?" Mai being nearby was troubling enough, but he absolutely did not want his sister around.

Iroh told him about Mai's father's business. Zuko remembered hearing something about a trade conference being held up at the town hall, but he hadn't paid much attention to the news. If Ministry of Colonial Affairs people were involved, it must be more important than he thought. His uncle concluded, "I'm sure it's just a coincidence."

"Even if it is, why is she coming to the ship?"

"She wishes to see you."

"Why?"

"You two were friends for many years. You grew up together. It is reason enough."

"I don't want to see her."

Iroh paused. "Should I tell her to go away?"

"No," Zuko snapped. "You invited her, you entertain her."

"But she wants to see _you_."

"Tell her I'm sick. Tell her I'm crazy. Tell her I'm a traitor to the Fire Nation. I don't care."

"Prince Zuko," his uncle said, "I know that you have had precious few friends lately..."

"I haven't had _any_ friends."

"But at times when friends are rare, you should not push away those you do have."

"I'm not pushing anyone away," Zuko said. " _I_ was pushed away! I'm banished, Uncle. Do you not remember that? Do you think I've been living on an old battleship because I think it's fun? I lost my honor, my home, my father, _and_ my _friends_."

His uncle said quietly, "I assure you, Nephew, I have not forgotten you were banished."

"I can't see Mai. You shouldn't have asked her here."

"You will not dine with us?"

"No," Zuko said. He picked his chair up off the floor and sat back down in front of his candles.

"My nephew, are you certain?"

"Yes."

"Well," Iroh said, "then I will have the company of a pretty young lady all to myself."

Zuko refused to take the bait. "Enjoy your dinner, Uncle," he said. He closed his eyes and began to breath, the candle flames flickering to life, just barely under control. He heard Iroh sigh and close the door to his quarters.

When his uncle was gone, he extinguished the candles and stood up. Meditation was impossible now. He began to pace, his thoughts a fully formed hurricane roaring around an eye that was as always calm and inscrutable: Mai. What was she doing here? Was it really coincidence or was this one of his sister's schemes? He would have thought Azula had better things to do than interfere with what was left of his life, since she was the heir to the throne now. If Mai wasn't working for his sister, why would she see him? He doubted she actually wanted to visit for friendship's sake--this was duty, or pity, or morbid curiosity.

He sat down on his bed, wondering why his uncle invited her to the ship. The part of his mind that had come to expect the worst from everyone he knew flickered with a dark thought: _perhaps his uncle didn't want him to regain his honor, didn't want him to come home again..._

He shook his head. Even in his blackest mood, he couldn't believe that. A memory surfaced, from one of the first nights he spent on this ship. He'd woken up, the side of his face a searing, throbbing mass, his body burning like straw with thirst, his mind whirling in near delirium. In the middle of the pain and confusion, he felt a hand clasping his. His uncle held a cup of cool water for him to drink, washed the sticky sweat from him, and soothed him back to sleep. This kindness shocked him--he hadn't thought such a thing was still possible for him--and the memory of it was printed on him, an almost palpable reminder of his uncle's love. Iroh was simply trying to make him feel better, to make him feel normal. The man mistakenly thought that he and Mai could have a cheerful evening catching up with each other. His uncle seemed to willfully not understand that he was a pariah--he just didn't meet people for dinner or go to parties or run into old friends. He certainly didn't dine with young women from prominent Fire Nation families.

His thoughts settled on Mai again. He had worked hard to forget what they had together, briefly, when they were younger and he believed they were in love. He remembered the last time they saw each other--three days before the duel, standing under the fire apple trees in the Sun Garden on the palace grounds. She kissed him goodbye. She was going with her mother to a family wedding on Dragon Egg Island. He remembered Mai complaining that it wasn't fair that her father got to stay home because of work when the wedding was in his side of the family. She hadn't wanted to go, saying the trip would be boring and her relatives on the island were nosy and stupid. She sailed away that night and hadn't returned by the time _he_ sailed away. Their temporary goodbye had become permanent.

He sighed. Thinking of the past was pointless. What he and Mai had shared was gone, turned to dust and blown away in an instant, like his honor and his throne. He got up and went to his desk, taking out his maps of the South Pole. His uncle could amuse Mai for the evening and she would leave with a full stomach and an earful of stories. She would go about whatever she was doing in Sozin's Bay and then go back home. Iroh would have to find some other way to try to distract Zuko from his search for the Avatar. His uncle loved him, he could not doubt, but his uncle didn't understand. He couldn't be normal, he couldn't let himself feel better until he had restored his honor. He knew what he needed to do, even if no one else understood or even believed he could do it--he needed to find the Avatar.


	6. Dinner with the Dragon

After Zuko and General Iroh left, the teashop began to get busy. The waiter gave Mai a disapproving look for continuing to occupy a table after finishing her tea. She glared at him. He promptly turned his attention to other customers, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

She remembered the night Zuko was banished. She returned to the capital city on the ferry, after spending two days trapped with her annoying cousins on Dragon Egg Island. It was a tiny island--named because it was supposedly shaped like a dragon's egg--and her father's family owned most of it. People called the place pastoral, which meant it was rural and boring instead of urban and boring. She hated every minute of the trip, filled with petty bickering between her mother and her father's sisters, who had never approved of her father's choice of wife, and nosy questions from her bumpkin cousins about why she painted her nails black and the exciting things she must do at court. (The answers, although her cousins would not believe her, were that she painted her nails black because she wanted to and that she didn't do anything exciting at court.) The wedding itself was boring, but at least everyone shut up during those few hours.

She'd been so glad to finally go back home. She stood on the deck of the ferry, watching the capital city lights grow brighter in the night sky as the ship slowly approached, wondering if she could wrangle her way into going to the palace this late. She was the first one down the gangway, and she realized something was wrong when she reached the rickshaw stand at the end of the dock. Two men passing by were whispering, the words _Prince Zuko_ and _Agni Kai_ and _banished_ striking her ears like thunder. She raced home by herself on foot, ignoring her mother's calls for her to wait.

At home, she found her father sitting in the garden alone, visibly shaken. He hugged her tight for a long time, something so rare she could count the number of times he'd done it. He hadn't wanted to tell her anything, but she explained, calmly, that she wanted to know what happened from someone who saw it and not have her ears filled with gossip. He relented and described what had happened at the duel with as little detail as possible.

Mai stayed awake all night, throwing knives at her bedroom wall. For the first time, she threw them not to pass the time or to test her skill, but in raw rage. She imagined each blade sinking into the Fire Lord's flesh, cold and furious, until he was red with blood and studded with steel, like her mother's favorite bright red pincushion. She knew this was a treasonous fantasy. She didn't care.

The next day was a haze. She went to school, struggling not to cry, not to listen to her classmates whispering, not to leap up and release a storm of arrows in the middle of a lesson. When she got home, she felt exhausted and lightheaded, almost drugged. She sat at dinner, not eating, while her mother discussed plans for a party for something or other. After, her mother retired to her sewing room and sat calmly working on needlepoint. Mai watched her for a few minutes, until she asked, in a tone showing no acknowledgment that anything had happened, if anything was wrong. Mai remembered Zuko's mother's disappearance, how her mother seemed to simply forget Princess Ursa existed. Her mother was friends with the Princess, boasted about playing pai sho and drinking tea with the Princess, and wanted her daughter to marry the Princess's son, and she never said a word when the Princess vanished. Mai said nothing was wrong, knowing it was pointless to try to talk to her mother.

She went to her father, who was in his study, hunched over a long scroll. He looked up at her standing at the door, his face showing sadness and nervousness. He didn't want to talk about what had happened again, he wanted to forget it himself. He had seen something ugly and twisted and didn't want to think about why it had happened or what it might mean. She knew then she had to keep her grief and her rage and her questions to herself, not only at school but everywhere.

Mai was so immersed in unpleasant memories she didn't notice her father's arrival, almost two hours late, until he sat down next to her and said her name. He seemed concerned, saying she looked distressed, but she assured him she was fine and the two of them set off to shop. She found herself putting more energy into shopping than she planned. The alternative was worrying about what would happen that evening or remembering the unhappy days after Zuko left. Mai found a present for Ty Lee, a garish, rainbow-colored mechanical acrobat that would tumble when wound up. She found a present for her uncle, a wildly inaccurate picture of the Boiling Rock, painted by an artist who had clearly never been there, which showed prisoners screaming as they flailed in steaming waters. She did not find anything on her mother's list worth buying, but purchased a few small items just to prove she tried. A set of pai sho tiles decorated with figures from Fire Nation mythology, a dark wood scroll case with a phoenix carved on the lid, and a pair of small, stand-up picture frames made of polished bloodstone. Her father bought a pair of fluffy, white koala sheep slippers for himself, which her mother would say were horrible. She did not look for anything for Azula--the Princess did not expect or appreciate souvenirs.

After the shopping was done, Mai returned to the hotel while her father went to the Governor's house to meet the Chancellor and the Chairman. She spotted a chip in one of her nails, so she filed and re-painted them. She rummaged through her clothes, wondering what to wear to dinner with her old boyfriend who may not want to see her and his uncle she barely knew. She sighed and decided to wear her regular clothes.

At seven, she found the officer who would escort her to the ship in the hotel lobby. The walk downhill wasn't long and she become nervous as she approached the dock. She reminded herself that whatever happened, it would at least not be as boring as sitting in her hotel room alone all night.

Zuko's uncle was waiting for her on deck, but Zuko himself was not. General Iroh said, "I am sorry to say that Prince Zuko is indisposed. I'm afraid you will be stuck with the company of an old man."

"When you say 'indisposed,' you mean he's brooding in his room, right?"

"Yes, I do."

Mai sighed. "If he really doesn't want to see me, I won't bother him."

"I would not say that. We must be patient with my nephew. He is sometimes unsure of what he wants himself right now."

"Well, Zuko can do what he likes. I'm eating dinner."

"That is the spirit." General Iroh held out his arm to show her to the dining room. He apologized for the appearance of the ship, since there were currently repairs underway, and assured her that the work had ended for the night.

Mai had been intimidated by Zuko's uncle because of his reputation as the Dragon of the West, although he was always friendly to herself and Ty Lee the few times they had seen him. Now, she discovered that he was as courteous to his guests as he was reported to be ferocious to his enemies. The food was excellent--clearly the ship had a first-rate cook--and the dining room had all the familiar comforts she would expect at home. But the notable part of the experience was that General Iroh made honest effort to engage her in conversation.

Most of the old military men Mai had dined with either dominated the conversation or said nothing at all. But the General seemed genuinely interested in talking with her. She had been raised not to speak unless spoken to and, although she did not strictly follow the letter of that law as she got older, the spirit had become a way of life. Sometimes she didn't speak when she _was_ spoken to and she'd discovered that often her interlocutor seemed not to notice she hadn't replied. But General Iroh was a good listener as well as a skilled speaker. She found herself talking much more freely to him than she had to anyone in a long time.

She described the changes at home in the past two years--new government buildings, new gardens, new shops--and passed on some choice bits of court news. She told him about her new brother and how big a change it had been for everyone in the family. He empathized with her situation, which surprised her but made sense on reflection. He had been even older when his only sibling was born. She'd heard that Zuko's grandmother had a series of miscarriages and stillbirths between her two sons, all kept hidden from the public. She was curious about the General's past, but did not ask questions that would likely be uncomfortable when he had been so kind to her. Neither of them spoke of Zuko. It didn't feel right to her to talk about him behind his back on his own ship. Also, if he had some way of eavesdropping on them, she didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he was a topic of conversation.

The pai sho tournament came up in discussion. When she mentioned she played, General Iroh invited her to a match and she accepted. Zuko may be hiding from her, but she was having a surprisingly good time with his uncle. The General won the game easily, as she expected. She was a decent player, but she could tell early on that he was a master. Still, it was interesting to see his unorthodox strategy and she felt she'd learned something about the game.

After the match, they had tea, which General Iroh brewed himself. As the night deepened, it became obvious Zuko wouldn't emerge. She was getting tired and it was late enough that her father's meeting should be ending, if it hadn't already, so she decided to return to the hotel.

The General walked her back. "I am sorry my nephew did not join us," he said. "He missed a lovely evening."

Mai sighed. "Tell him I just wanted to say hello. Tell him--tell him there are people at home who miss him."

"I think he would appreciate hearing that."

General Iroh bid her farewell. Mai returned to the suite and found that her father was not back yet. She laid down on her bed. She had an enjoyable evening, but her questions and confusion about Zuko remained. She thought about his uncle's call for patience with him, and wondered if she should attempt to see him again. She stretched her arms and legs, staring at the ceiling. She decided she would try once more, but not tomorrow. She had her pride and refused to spend the rest of her time in Sozin's Bay chasing him. If he truly did not want to see her, if the bond between them had been severed by time apart and suffering not shared, then there was nothing she could do but mourn the loss. But if he was avoiding her out of an exaggerated sense of propriety, well, they were in the wrong place to be worried about what was _proper_.

She rolled onto her side, looking out the window onto the dark harbor. She _did_ miss him. Her mother said she would find herself another boy before she knew it, but her mother was wrong.


	7. Honorable and Right

The moment Iroh returned to the ship, Zuko was in front of him, demanding, "What happened?"

Iroh stepped back, widening his eyes and clutching his chest with his hand. "Prince Zuko, you should not jump out at your elders like that!"

"I know I didn't scare you," Zuko said. His uncle had played games like this before. "Tell me what happened with Mai."

"Oh, if you were interested, you should have joined us. There was plenty of food and we would not have minded another."

"Stop teasing! Just tell me."

"Well, first we had a she-crab soup, which was very fine..."

Zuko clenched his fists and yelled, "What did she say about me?"

His uncle looked at him seriously now. "Nephew, are you all right? You are highly agitated."

Zuko closed his eyes for a moment, collecting himself. "I'm fine, Uncle," he said, straining for a tone resembling calm. "I'm just curious. You know I haven't seen anyone from home in a long time."

His uncle nodded, looking thoughtful. "Come with me," he said. "We can discuss the matter over some tea."

Zuko knew better than to start asking questions again until his uncle was ready, which meant until the man had savored his first sip of hot tea. It was difficult to wait, but after Iroh put his cup back down on the table in his quarters, he said, "Well, Prince Zuko, what is on your mind?"

That was a more difficult question to answer than his uncle knew. "I'm sorry, Uncle," Zuko said, "if I embarrassed you tonight."

"Oh? You did not embarrass me. I made no promise that you would be there. However, I believe you did disappoint my guest."

"Did I? I mean, did Mai really want to see me? She can be hard to read, you know."

"She does have a, as they say, deadpan face," Iroh agreed. "But I believe her wish to see you was sincere."

Zuko took a sip of his own tea. "What did she say about me?"

"Nothing."

"What? She must have said something."

"Your friend came here tonight to see you, not to talk about you with someone else." Zuko had difficulty believing his uncle was right, that Mai--that anyone--wanted to spend time with him, in his present state. Iroh continued, "She did give me a message for you."

"What is it?"

"She says hello."

"Oh."

"She also says that there are people at home who miss you."

Zuko looked at his uncle for a moment and then picked up his teacup. He closed his eyes and swallowed a large gulp of tea, holding the cup in front of his face. If Iroh noticed the tears forming, he didn't say anything.

The two of them sat in silence for a little while, until Zuko recovered. He cleared his throat and asked, "She said that?"

"Do you find the idea that an old friend would miss you unbelievable?"

"I don't know what to believe anymore. All I know is I have to get my honor back."

His uncle finished his tea and poured himself another cup. "I think you should call on Mai."

Zuko said sharply, "I can't do that. Her family is always so worried about her father's career. It wouldn't be right to expose her to the possibility of scandal."

"It is also not right for a man to slight his friends, especially when they express concern for his well-being," his uncle replied. The comment stung Zuko and he dropped his eyes to the floor. Iroh added, "The terms of banishment prohibit you from returning to the Fire Nation or communicating with anyone within the country. Outside the Fire Nation, you may go wherever you wish and see whoever you choose."

Zuko looked up, uncertain. Iroh waved a hand and said, "Of course, if you really don't want to see her, don't let me push you into it."

"I just don't know." He pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment and then rested his head in his hands. "She really said that...I'm missed, at home?"

His uncle nodded. "You would only have to talk to her. She could come back to the ship."

"No," Zuko said immediately. " _If_ I decide to see her, I don't want to do it on the ship."

"Think about it," his uncle said. "I can come with you, if you like. I remember Mai being a quiet girl, rather shy, but she can carry a conversation well when she wishes. I would be pleased to see her again."

Zuko definitely did not want his uncle there when-- _if_ \--he went to see Mai. "Uncle," he said, "I've been thinking. The repairs are almost done. I think we can spare you for a day, so why don't you go to the pai sho tournament tomorrow?"

For a moment, Zuko thought his uncle really would start jumping up and down with glee. Iroh calmed down enough to remain seated and said, "It's a pity it is too late to enter the championship game. The prize is one thousand gold coins and a white lotus tile the size of a dinner platter." He grinned broadly and spread out his hands to indicate the enormity of the tile.

Zuko was glad it _was_ too late to enter the championship game. "I'm sure you'll win something, Uncle."

"Oh, I don't doubt it. But playing pai sho is one of the things in life that is worth doing whether you win or lose."

Zuko finished his tea and said good night. He returned to his quarters, but he could not sleep. He sat up in bed, with unsettled, uncomfortable thoughts rolling across his mind like storm clouds. He had to admit, there was a foolish part of him that longed to see Mai again, regardless of any circumstance, the part that was moved to tears by _There are people at home who miss you_. The possibility that she really wanted to see him, which he did not yet accept as fact, strengthened this part tenfold. And his uncle's suggestion that it was not right--not _honorable_ \--to slight one's friends nagged at him. The question was whether she was still his friend.

Long ago, he and Mai had been more than friends. He almost forgot sometimes that he once had a girlfriend--sometimes he almost forgot he once had a home, other than this clanking battleship, and a family, other than his eccentric uncle. He still thought of Mai at odd times: when he passed a street vendor selling fire flakes--one of her favorites, although he didn't care for them; when he glimpsed a knife strapped to the wrist of a soldier. He had believed she didn't think about him anymore, except maybe with shame. He had wondered if she regretted knowing him--if she regretted kissing him. He remembered the effort they put into snatching time alone together, dodging the army of palace servants, Ty Lee, and, most of all, his sister. It had been a game, sneaking into concealed corners in the house and gardens and stealing secret kisses.

He never would have believed it if he hadn't experienced it, but Mai was, despite her reserved exterior, a passionate kisser, or at least had been. He remembered her running the tip of her tongue along his lips, teasing...

He got out of bed and began pacing, quickly shutting the memory out of his mind. He refused to re-ignite old desires. He had to regain his honor, and while his uncle may be right that he owed Mai courtesy, he could never let himself forget his mission. They had been apart for two years--even if she still considered him a friend, she couldn't possibly still have that kind of desire for him. Mai was not a sentimental girl who would spend years pining for a lost love--she was probably with someone else now. He felt a flare of jealousy at the idea of her having another boyfriend, which faded quickly but still troubled him. She wasn't his girlfriend anymore, and he shouldn't be jealous at the prospect of her moving on with her life without him. He should be glad that she was sensible and capable of taking care of herself and that she would have opportunities for happiness.

Iroh said she had not talked about him during dinner--very like her, not giving any hint of what she was really thinking. He wondered what she would say to him if they met right now. He wondered how she would react to his scar. If she were disgusted by it and wanted to hide that feeling, she could do it. If she were disgusted and wanted to let him know, she could do that too. People sometimes gave him openly disgusted looks (he'd had a few here, in Sozin's Bay) and he had become accustomed to the sting. But the thought of Mai being revolted by him hurt much more than the stares of strangers.

He realized suddenly that he didn't know what _she_ looked like now: if she'd grown tall, like it seemed she would; if she still painted her nails black, which displeased her mother; if she had long or short hair. He didn't know anything about what had happened to her during the past two years--how she had changed. He wondered if she could still kiss like she used to or if that was another thing she'd gradually lost the ability to enjoy. Over the years, he'd watched her shut down more and more of her feelings, like a row of lamps extinguished one by one. Mai was always much calmer and quieter than he was, but she used to show a normal range of emotion. There were many times when he appreciated her even temper and nonchalant attitude, especially when he fought with his sister or encountered girls who went crazy at the sight of a young male member of the royal family (and, later, even crazier at the sight of the Crown Prince). But there were also times when he was annoyed by her inscrutability and apathy. He never understood why, but it was like the life was slowly draining out of her.

Zuko made up his mind. He dressed and left the ship. If he didn't see her, he would think about this missed chance long after leaving the port. If he saw her and it went badly, he would just confirm what he suspected, despite his uncle's assurances--that her visit was merely a social formality. If he saw her and it went well...he didn't know what he would do. He doubted they would enjoy seeing each other. There was another part of him, wrestling feverishly with the part that yearned to see her and dared to believe she still cared for him, that wanted the meeting to go wrong, so he could forget her once and for all, without guilt or regret.

His uncle had mentioned where she was staying, so he headed uphill to the town center. It was much too late to see her now, but he could wait until morning. The town's nightlife was in full swing as he took up position on a corner opposite the hotel. A gaggle of young women zigzagged past him, laughing madly, wearing glittery paint on their faces and tinsel in their hair. Whenever the door to one of the clubs opened, loud, discordant music blared into the night: wailing horns and pounding drums, with occasional shrieks from some stringed instrument being tortured. He frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. He knew many of the people acting in this ridiculous way were visitors from the Fire Nation and that they would never do such things at home. He wondered sometimes why he cared so much about honor--not only reputation or title or respect, but what was _right_ \--when so many other people did not seem to care about it at all. But the idea of not caring--not feeling, not acting, not trying, even if it meant more suffering than he thought he could stand at times--seemed as good as being dead to him. He'd rather feel pain any time than feel nothing.


	8. Reunion

The next day, Mai had nothing to do. Of course there were things she _could_ do. She could search the streets for shops she had missed yesterday, hunting for things for her mother. She could sit in on the Colonial Trade Committee's hearing on proposed changes to the regulations for the marking of colony-made pottery, which her father would be at all day. Apparently the question of how many characters to paint on the bottom of a jug had turned into a nasty political issue. She could call on Governor Rao's daughters and spend a few hours winding them up with exaggerated stories about life in the Fire Nation capital. But she would honestly rather have a tooth pulled than do any of those things. She stood by her decision not to try to see Zuko again--yet.

She'd been in Sozin's Bay for a week and had already seen all the town's landmarks. There was the park, guarded by statues of the Fire Nation military commanders who captured the city, long-bearded men proudly sitting on rhinos. There was the boardwalk, crowded with tourists or drunken sailors, depending on the time. There was the port museum, lined with old lifeboats, tugboats, and paddleboats. There were the more curious attractions as well. The tavern with an eight-foot tall lantern in front that, according to an elderly woman sweeping the steps, had ten pounds of dead bugs cleaned out of it every week. The memorial to the inventor of the tsungi horn, born here two hundred years ago, consisting of a gigantic tsungi horn, taller than Mai, which allegedly could be played.

Of course, there were the go-gos, which were what most visitors came to see, offering games of chance, wild music, exotic drinks and scantily clad dancers. Having recently turned sixteen, she was old enough to get into the less restricted ones, although she didn't care to go by herself. If Ty Lee were here, she would be too young for admission, but they could con the door guard or scale a wall and come in through a window. She imagined Ty Lee huffing that she was better looking and a better dancer than the women onstage. The evening would probably end with one of the male patrons getting too forward and Ty Lee leaving him in an immobile pile on the floor. Then the bouncers would escort them out. There might be a fight. She sighed, wishing Ty Lee were here.

She decided to practice with her weapons. Her parents had long ago prohibited her from using walls outside her bedroom for target practice, so she would have to go somewhere else. Searching for a suitable spot, somewhere with open space, preferably where she wouldn't attract too much attention, would be a good way to kill a lot of time. She dressed and left the suite. She wasn't particularly hungry after the sumptuous dinner she'd had, so she didn't go into the dining room for breakfast. Outside the hotel, she looked around, wondering which way to go. She quickly spotted a tall, dark topknot on an otherwise hairless head. Zuko was standing on the corner.

They looked at each other for a long moment. She hadn't really known what she expected him to do after last night, but she certainly did not expect to see him first thing in the morning. Her heart hammered against her ribs: this was it--their reunion--and she was unprepared. She felt like she did when she first realized she was in love with him, long ago, and just looking at him made her tongue-tied and bashful. The encounter in the teashop had been between her and his uncle--she saw Zuko, but it was more like seeing a picture of him than him in the flesh. She was nervous, but she wasn't going to run away now. Her hiding from him after he hid from her would simply be too ridiculous. She squared her shoulders and walked toward him.

She finally saw the scar: a raw, rough, angry mark around his left eye. The eye was squashed into a deep squint, even though the right was open wide, and there was no eyebrow over it. But it wasn't the scar that shocked her--it was the expression on his face. He'd always had a quick temper and she'd seen him angry many times. But she'd never seen _this_.

All she could read in him was anger, layer upon layer, compressed into hard lines in his face. She had learned to make a mask to hide behind when she was very young, but he did not, even though his life would have been much easier if he had. This openness was one of the things she liked best about him (one of the things she liked best about Ty Lee as well). When she was with him, she felt like she was with a person, made of flesh and blood and bone, with a spirit and a mind of his own. She felt like she was a person too, not a carefully groomed, expensively dressed doll for her parents to pose or a knife-throwing machine for Azula to operate. Now, she saw he had finally made a mask, only it wasn't a cool mask of detachment like hers, it was a white-hot mask of rage. She wondered what was behind it--if the mercurial, sensitive, intense boy she had known was still there or if he had been burned away.

She was suddenly standing in front of him and it was time to start talking. She said, "You've changed your hair," falling into the safety of trivial things.

That was clearly not the first thing Zuko expected her to say. "I--you don't like it," he said.

"I didn't say that. It's just very different."

"I didn't come here to talk about my hair, Mai," he said.

She worried he was going to try to start a very serious conversation, which would only lead to trouble right now. She shrugged. "Let's get off the street."

"Where were you going?"

"Nowhere."

"What were you going to do?"

"Nothing. It's just that exciting around here." She regarded his face--harsh eyes, clenched jaw--and her apprehension grew. "I haven't had breakfast yet. Come on, you can buy me something to make up for standing me up last night."

At random, she picked a winding, narrow side street to walk down. They passed some of the more mundane local businesses: an apothecary, a laundry, a shoemaker. These shop fronts were not as flashy as most others, the customers were sober, and the morning sun was mostly blocked by the angle of the buildings. She appreciated the quiet and the softer light--her nerves were jangled enough being with Zuko and she didn't need any extra annoyances.

Zuko offered stiffly, "I'm sorry I didn't come to dinner, but we have so many preparations to make for our voyage to the South Pole."

Mai figured that was true, but it wasn't the reason he stayed away. "I had a good time without you," she said pointedly. "I never knew your uncle was a fun guy."

He looked curious. "What did you do that was fun with my uncle?"

"We played pai sho. You know there's a tournament going on?"

"Oh, I _know_."

"We talked."

"About what?"

"A lot of things. My brother--"

"You don't have a brother," he said sharply.

"I have one now. Your uncle didn't tell you? His name's Tom Tom. He's three months old."

Shock dislodged the anger on Zuko's face momentarily. "I imagine a lot of things have changed since I've been gone," he said, shaking his head.

They found a small cafe with white walls and a green tile roof. Inside, the place was modestly decorated, with round, green cloth-covered tables and walls that were half dark wood and half yellow-flowered wallpaper. It was also empty, except for an elderly couple sitting in the corner, holding hands as they talked over their breakfast. Zuko didn't express any opinion about food, so she ordered pineapple and oolong tea for both of them at the counter. She thrust out her hand to him for money. He looked confused for a moment, then fished a handful of coins out of his pocket and pressed them into her palm without checking to see what they were. She paid and gave him his change, which he didn't look at either.

Zuko was clearly not in the mood to talk, so Mai took on the task of making conversation. She updated him on her family affairs: the surprise appearance of Tom Tom, how adding a nursery turned into redecorating the entire house, her grandmother Lu Fong, her last living grandparent, dying. She told him about Ty Lee's family as well. Ty Zan, the oldest sister, had a delayed rebellion against their parents and caused a minor scandal by eloping with a Navy captain from the colonies. The two of them seemed very happy together and the bad feelings blew over when the first grandchild appeared. The second oldest sister, Jiao Lee, had made a much more promising match--she was engaged to one of Zuko's distant cousins, the late Princess Ilah's grandnephew, Huo Xi. Ty Yun, the third oldest sister, had started teaching music at the Royal Fire Academy for Girls. The middle sister, Min Lee, was not working anywhere or engaged to anyone, but she was always busy and had many admirers. She caused sensations at court by wearing elaborate outfits of her own design. Lee Qing, the third youngest sister, had an exhibit of her paintings up at the Royal Art Gallery. The second youngest sister, Mu Ty, planned to study zoology at Imperial Fire University. Ty Lee herself was driving her parents crazy, flirting with boys and doing acrobatics in inappropriate places. Mai did not mention Azula.

He offered his condolences for her grandmother's death, but otherwise did not say much. She watched him while she talked, but could still see nothing in him except anger. She decided to gamble. She said, "So, my father's stuck at the hearing all day today. I'm on my own." When he didn't reply, she added, "Hint, hint," and touched his hand.

Zuko quickly pulled his hand away from hers and folded his arms over his chest. She stared at him, feeling like she had been slapped in the face. The touch had only been to get his attention. As far back as she could remember, they touched each other casually, easily. He never jerked away from her like that, even when she teased him, even when they fought. This simple gesture cut her in a way his avoiding her last night had not. She had thought he may not want to see her at all, but she never thought that if they were together, he wouldn't want her to touch him. The gulf between them was too wide to be bridged now. She felt an unfamiliar sensation: tears prickling in her eyes. She quickly blinked them back and looked away from him.

He took a breath and said, "I--have things to do, arrangements to make, for the ship." This was it: he wanted her to leave. But he went on, "You can come with me, if you want. It'll be boring."

She looked back at him. His expression had finally changed, softened. He looked just a little like his old self. She said, her voice cool and even, although she still felt potential tears lingering in her vision, "Everything I've done here has been boring, Zuko." She thought, _Almost everything_.


	9. A Knife Made of Bone

Zuko walked in awkward silence with Mai to the dockside warehouse where his ship's steward would be waiting. He hadn't intended to bring her along, but nothing this morning had happened the way he intended.

He had spent most of the night sitting cross-legged on a low wall near the hotel, trying to untangle his warring feelings about Mai's presence and formulate something to say that would make sense and not embarrass them both. He decided to be plain and direct and explain that, while he did appreciate her expression of concern and her visit, it simply wasn't right for him to see her anymore until he had restored his honor.

However, when he saw Mai, his plan was quickly destroyed. Every time he was ready to give his speech, she said something that threw him off balance. First, she commented on his hair, of all things. He thought about returning to the ship then, since she clearly wasn't taking their meeting seriously. But he had come to her and he would not leave until he said what he wanted to say. Then, he found out she had a baby brother, which was mind-boggling. Her parents were too old to be having more kids--her mother must be almost forty and her father ten years older. The news made him feel like he had been away for much longer than two years. He knew that things at home would change while he was gone, but the reality of those changes had never resonated in him before. This awareness made him feel even more alone and separated from his old life, more distant from his rightful place as Prince of the Fire Nation. He wasn't sure he could even imagine home anymore.

The biggest shock--the one that spun him into complete confusion--came last. _Mai had almost started crying._ He tried to remember the last time he saw her cry--she was maybe six years old. He had certainly never seen her cry while they were dating. He felt responsible, although he didn't know precisely what he had done to upset her. Perhaps he hadn't done anything in particular, and the two of them seeing each other again unexpectedly was just as difficult for her as it was for him. Whatever pained her, he wanted to try to make things right, or as right as they could be under the circumstances. He didn't know what to do, but he couldn't just leave her alone. So, he invited her to come along on his errand. It wasn't a good plan, but it was the best he could think of at the moment. He could neglect his errand and talk with her alone, but now he felt the speech he'd prepared was woefully inadequate, and he had no idea what else to say.

In spite of his confusion and worry about how the situation would end, he felt certain of one thing now: Mai did still care for him. He had been afraid to believe it was true before, and he was surprised by how--there was no other word for it-- _happy_ it made him. He felt like something inside him that had grown a hard, bitter shell over the years cracked open a little, allowing warm, gentle feelings he had buried to escape. The part of him that had always wanted to see her again drowned out the part that tried to remind him that this complication would only distract him from his mission. He had lost his honor and been gone for two years, and she _still_ wanted to be his friend. He was amazed.

Mai's friendship had surprised him before, and been a comfort in a bleak time. After his mother had vanished, he was alone. His mother was gone, with no explanation, but hints of dark, cruel secrets. Lu Ten, who was like a big brother to him, was dead. His uncle, who was always there in every other time of need, was far away. He had no one to turn to--his father would not speak to him about anything he wanted to talk about and his sister only mocked and taunted him. But Mai stepped into the gap. She had no answers--it seemed like no one did, or at least no one was willing to tell him--and she did nothing extraordinary. She simply sat with him and talked with him, about nothing in particular most of the time. Receiving this kindness, he felt like an exhausted swimmer catching hold of a floating ring. In the year or so before his father became Fire Lord, he and Mai had grown apart and rarely talked, mostly because he had felt that a boy his age shouldn't be hanging around a girl so much, and she had started spending most of her time with Azula and Ty Lee. But after his mother disappeared, their old friendship returned, and became stronger and more serious.

They arrived at the warehouse, a long, single-story wooden building that looked like it had been pounded by one too many storms. Mai wasn't interested in standing around while he ordered nuts and bolts and dried fruit, so she found an out-of-the-way stretch of nearby wall to use for target practice. He would have worried about her being out by the docks by herself, if he had never seen her fight. She could hold her own against fire benders. He smiled to himself when he saw several rough-looking longshoremen look alarmed as she calmly ripped into the weathered wood with quick flashes of flying steel.

He found the steward, who seemed disappointed that his uncle was not there and skeptical of his ability to make practical decisions on his own. But Zuko had prepared for the task, and he was relieved to have something to think about other than his or anyone else's emotions for a little while. The steward pointed out items that he recommended, and the two of them compiled a list of supplies to order in a businesslike fashion. They had to be careful--everything they didn't bring with them would have to be done without when they were on the icy polar sea. The warehouse manager assured them everything would be delivered by the next day, and he and the steward returned to where he left Mai.

Zuko was surprised to see a crowd gathered, intently watching something. He didn't see Mai. He pushed his way through the crowd, fearing he had overestimated her ability to take care of herself. Scenes of horrible things that could have happened during the hour he was in the warehouse flashed through his mind. Desperate robbers, vengeful resistance fighters, insane murderers--any of them could have crossed paths with her. Mai was tough, but she was alone out here. It would be just his luck to finally have her friendship back and then have something bad happen to her. He was about to start fire bending to break up the mob when he saw her.

She stood in the center of the crowd, coolly watching a tall man in a Navy Captain's uniform throwing stilettos at a wall with ferocious intensity. The wall was pocked with countless blade marks and scrawled with rough markings for targets. Zuko's mouth fell open in shock--there was an impromptu competition going on.

Mai acknowledged Zuko with a short nod. When the Captain was done, he raised his arms in expectation of victory, his compatriots cheering. Zuko realized with surprise that the daggers formed the Fire Nation insignia. Mai surveyed the man's work, tilting her head. She glanced back at Zuko and smiled slightly, as though to say _Watch this_. She positioned herself in front of a fresh patch of wall and paused briefly, considering. Then her body arced through a swift, smooth, swirling movement, which she repeated three times. Arrows and knives slashed through the air until her completed design decorated the wall: a dragon, wings outstretched, flames licking from its mouth.

The crowd roared. It was clear she had won. Her rival bowed to her, presenting her with a trophy and his congratulations, then turned to talk to his fellow officers. Zuko threaded his way to her through the disbanding crowd and asked, "What are you _doing_?"

"Getting myself a souvenir," she said. She held up her prize: a smooth, white knife with a wave design etched in blue on the hilt. "It's Water Tribe."

Zuko did not know what to say in response to this spectacle. He wondered what other bizarre events were waiting for him today. "I couldn't find you. I thought something had happened."

"Everything's fine. You know I can handle myself. And I doubt anyone would try something in the middle of the day with all the workers around."

"You never know what could happen around here. This town has a lot of weirdos in it."

The sound of throat clearing interrupted him. He turned and saw the steward nervously glancing between Mai, the large quantity of projectile weapons stuck in the wall, and the long knife in her hand. The man began, "Sir, if you do not require my services any longer..."

"You may leave," Zuko said. The steward scampered away.

Mai asked, looking after the retreating man, "What's with him?"

"Maybe he doesn't like knives?"

She half smiled. The two of them stood silently for a moment, looking at each other and then looking away. He felt like he should say something, but he still didn't know what. She turned her knife over in her hands, holding it at different angles. She said, "I've never had a knife made of bone. It's well made. Here, feel it." She held the knife out to him.

He took the hilt, their hands briefly touching on it. She blushed, her eyes darting away from him. He felt the blade's balance, the solid construction, the secure way it sat in his hand, but his eyes were fixed on her face. The last time he saw her blush like that was the first time she had awkwardly stammered that she liked him. Seeing that expression now, he was more bewildered than ever.

He handed the knife back to her. "It is well made," he agreed. She tucked it into her belt. He took her hand gently. Her eyes widened slightly in surprise, and for a moment he thought she would pull away from him. But she smiled and squeezed his hand lightly, heat springing up between their palms. He said, "I'm sorry I didn't see you last night."

She shook her head briefly. "I'm glad you changed your mind today." She sighed, with contentment rather than irritation. "So...what do you have to do next?"

"There's a lot of work being done on the ship," he said. "It's old, and not in good shape. But I think the crew can handle things for a little while."

"There's not much to do around here," she said. "There's a giant lantern over on Sea Urchin Lane that's worth a look. It's hideously ugly and full of dead bugs."

He lifted his arm into position to escort her properly and said, "Let's go."


	10. Out on the Town

Mai and Zuko walked around Sozin's Bay together, arm in arm. For once, she was more than happy to have nowhere to go and nothing to do. She took him to see the big lantern, on a steeply sloped street halfway up the hill. The same old woman who had been sweeping before was there again, her broom scratching on the wooden steps, telling tourists the same tales. Mai and Zuko drifted uphill on the crooked streets, through and beyond the city square, to where the land dipped and then flattened out. They toured the large rectangular park, home to the statues of the admiral and the general who captured the city and the giant tsungi horn.

Zuko looked at the horn, which was taller than he was by about a foot, and said, "My uncle keeps trying to get me to play the tsungi horn. Says it will help my breathing. I think it's a waste of time I could spend on fire bending."

She said, "At least it's not as boring as playing the gong. I got stuck with that in the school orchestra. You just stand there and bang it with a mallet over and over."

On the east side of the park were the canopies for the pai sho tournament, three large and five small, all bustling. Zuko wondered aloud how many games his uncle had won by now. Past the tents began the long, wide road to the Governor's mansion. She and Zuko sat down on a bench in a secluded grove of leafy trees facing west to the harbor, where it was quiet except for chirping birds. They held onto each other's hands. Talking was good and not talking was good as well. They watched the sunset, and then the night lights blinking on in clusters up and down the hill.

When it was dark, Mai and Zuko returned to the town proper, where restaurants, taverns and social clubs were just opening for business. The streets were dotted with members of what she by now recognized as the town's usual after dark crowd: dockworkers having a drink (or six) after work, sailors on leave looking to cram the most debauchery into the least amount of time, club-goers in bizarre and often sparkly outfits lining up to get into the most popular go-gos, and various people who managed to look like they were up to no good while simply standing on the sidewalk.

She said, "Since we didn't have dinner together last night, why don't we do it now?"

Zuko asked, "Will your father miss you?"

"He's being dragged out on the town by the Trade Commission brass. Will your uncle miss you?"

"He'll probably be playing pai sho most of the night."

"Then it sounds like we're both free for the evening."

After walking up and down the quieter side streets for a while, they found a restaurant away from the hustle and noise of the nightlife. Upon entering, Mai would have bet the place was run by people actually from the Fire Nation. The color scheme was red, gray and black with gold accents, and the walls were decorated with Fire Nation opera masks. But the most significant sign was the scent of familiar spices wafting out of the kitchen. The people of Sozin's Bay did not understand the complexity and subtlety of authentic Fire Nation food--they thought "Fire Nation cuisine" meant "drowning in bright red fire chili sauce."

She and Zuko were quiet for most of the meal, which was fine with her. She was just happy to see feelings other than bitter anger in his face. The boy she knew wasn't dead, but he was different now. He would have the scar on his face for the rest of his life, and the scars hidden inside as well. But no matter what had changed, she still loved being with him. She sighed, glancing between the scarred and unscarred sides of his face. Ever since he took her hand by the warehouse there had been an insistent thrumming building in her body. Long after he was banished, she had started wondering if kissing him had been as good as she remembered it being. The possibility that she could have the opportunity to refresh her memory--and the opportunity to discover what his new, more adult body was like--shadowed all her other thoughts. But she didn't know whether he felt the same way now, or, even if he did, if he would want to act on those feelings under the circumstances. She wasn't entirely certain she wanted to act on her own feelings. She wasn't sure how to ask him if he was still attracted to her, or even if she should. She was afraid he might push her away again if she did.

She realized she was staring at him when Zuko colored slightly and looked at the wall. "Sorry," she said, turning her eyes to her hands. "I just haven't seen you in so long. I still can't believe I'm actually looking at you."

He said, "I thought you wouldn't want to look at me anymore."

"The scar doesn't bother me," she said, touching his hand lightly. "I'm already used to it."

Zuko sighed. "It's not just the way it looks. I feel like I've been branded, like a criminal, like everyone can see I've lost my honor."

She squeezed his hand. There was nothing she could say to make the pain of certain experiences go away--it just hurt, and it probably always would. She could only try to encourage him to think about other, better things. She said, "You know, I didn't want to go on this trip with my father, but I'm glad I did."

Zuko suddenly looked at something behind her with alarm and pulled his hand away from hers. She glanced around the restaurant--there were couples and small groups eating their meals, and four older men in Fire Nation dress, new customers, were approaching the hostess. The place wasn't quite half full. Seeing nothing of obvious concern, she asked, "What is it?"

"You don't know those men, do you?"

She looked more carefully at the quartet. "No. Do you?"

"No." He looked relieved. "They just look like government minister types. I thought they might know your father."

She shook her head. "You worry too much. My father doesn't know _every_ government official in the colonies, you know."

"I don't want you to get into trouble because of me."

"I can handle my dad."

"But you can't handle mine," he said quietly.

She paused. "Do you think your father would care about you seeing me?"

Anger flashed in Zuko's face. "You think he doesn't care about me?"

She stopped herself from asking, _How can you still think he does?_ After all, she believed her mother didn't much like her most of the time, yet she still tried in vain to please the woman. "I didn't say that," she said. "I just doubt he's monitoring your every move."

"Just...don't talk about my father. You don't understand."

"You're the one who brought him up."

"I was just trying to make you understand that you can't cross him, Mai."

"I wasn't planning on crossing him. I just think you're worrying for no reason."

Zuko leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "The consequences for mistakes are permanent with my father," he said. "You can't afford to make a single one." They were both quiet for a moment. He finally said, "Mai. Look, I'm--glad--I saw you again. I really am. But we can't act like these two years never happened."

She made an exasperated sound--Zuko had decided it was time for a serious conversation. "I'm not trying to. Believe me, I know you've been gone for two years." She thought for a moment--if he wanted to be serious, she would be. She said, "It's just that we didn't break up." He looked at her, curious. She added, "When you left, it felt like you _died_ , only there wasn't a funeral. And now I'm sitting here arguing with you. It's a little weird."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "It's weird for me, too. I figured you'd be, you know, seeing someone else by now…" He looked uncertain, and then asked, "I mean, you…aren't, are you?" She shook her head briefly. "Don't tell me you didn't meet interested guys. A young noblewoman from a rich, influential family? And...beautiful too?"

Her heart beat spiked at the last comment, and she smiled at the shy way he said it. "Oh, guys were interested, but they all ran away when they saw my knife collection." Zuko smiled slightly at this. She added, "My mother keeps trying to match make for me. It drives me crazy. She's afraid I'll die a mad old spinster with a house full of cats and there won't be any family heirs. But she's distracted by the baby now, so I'm off the hook for a little while."

Her mother would not arrange a marriage for Mai, mostly because arranged marriage had come to be considered outdated and unfashionable in recent years, especially among the younger Fire Nation nobles, and her mother never willingly did anything unfashionable. But the woman did try to increase the odds of having a son-in-law she approved of by introducing Mai to as many eligible young men as she could.

"So, tell me," she said. "Do you have a girlfriend--or a wife--hidden away on that ship?"

Zuko looked so shocked by the idea she smiled. After a moment, he stammered, "Of course not! I'm searching for the Avatar, not out on a pleasure cruise."

They had finished their meal. An obviously tipsy group of young men entered the restaurant, loudly singing a Fire Days Festival song. Mai eyed the newcomers and said, "We should go." A fight, she could handle, but not singing.

Outside, they walked around for a while longer, but it was late enough that the streets were becoming crowded with people in various stages of intoxication jostling, stumbling, yelling and, occasionally, dancing very badly. A large, red-faced man bumped into Mai hard, almost knocking her down. Zuko shoved him away, yelling, "Watch where you're going, peasant!"

Mai quickly grabbed Zuko's arm and pulled him away. If the drunk man had been more aware of what was going on around him, there would have been a fight. She said, "Let's go somewhere that's not clogged with idiots who've had way too much rice wine."

"I agree," he said, looking around with distaste. "But where?"

She said, "There's your ship."

"I'd rather not go there."

She didn't really want to go to his ship either. Judging by her time on board with General Iroh, there wasn't much chance of real privacy. Besides, while the dining room was nice, the rest of it seemed rather dumpy. She said, apprehensive about how he would take the suggestion, "There's my hotel suite."

He looked nervous. "Your father."

"Will be out with a bunch of drunk politicians telling boring stories and bad jokes until the wee hours. He told me himself he may not be back until morning." They reached the central square, an oasis of quiet in the middle of the town's noisy revelry, and stopped opposite the hotel. She added, "And, well, we're leaving tomorrow night."

"We're leaving the day after."

"Then, if we're going to spend time together, we should do it now."

"You're _sure_ your father will be out late?" He looked around the square, as though expecting her father to suddenly appear behind them.

She sighed. "He hasn't been back before midnight yet on this trip. And that was when booze and go-go dancers weren't involved."

Zuko smiled slightly. "You think I'm worrying too much again."

"I'll let you know when I think you're not worrying _enough_."

They walked into the lobby holding hands.


	11. Up All Night

Zuko surveyed Mai's suite. The place was not fitting for someone of her status, but he had learned that one simply could not expect much in the colonies. At least it looked clean, which was more than could be said for many other places in town. The sitting room was furnished with a long, gray couch with a matching footstool, a dark red rug, and a dark brown rectangular table with a pair of cushioned benches. Opposite the door, overlooking the harbor, was a broad window with a seat, framed by yellow curtains. A white silk lantern hung from the ceiling overhead, and another stood behind the table. On the white, wood walls were watercolor sketches of various local landmarks: the lighthouse, the boardwalk, the park. To his right, there were two doorways, currently closed, opening onto the bedrooms.

He studied the details of the room because, at the moment, he was too nervous to look at Mai. She sat next to him on the sofa, close but not touching. He knew she was looking at him. She had been looking at him ever since she won the bone knife, and he had kept reminding himself that he was probably imagining attraction on her part. But their conversation at dinner made it impossible for him to pretend that the feelings between the two of them were long dead and forgotten. They had never broken up, indeed. He could say they weren't a couple anymore--and they weren't--but whatever they were was more complicated now. The idea that these emotions had survived for so long with nothing to sustain them, like shipwreck survivors on the open ocean, was strange and wonderful and a bit terrible to him. He had been surprised by her offering friendship to him, but to be offered _love_...

He remembered the first time he knew they loved each other. They'd stolen away from a parade in honor of yet another Fire Nation victory in the Earth Kingdom, and wandered along the phoenix wing ivy covered wall bordering the Sun Garden. They sat down in the empty tea house, listening to the distant crowd cheering for the victorious generals. Mai had given him a strange, intent look, and quickly kissed his cheek, her lips soft on his skin. He was surprised, but kissed her back. They slipped their arms around each other. He realized suddenly that his heart was pounding like he'd been running and that so was hers. He felt hot and fluttery inside, and wanted to kiss her again, his lips against hers. He knew then that they weren't just friends anymore. It had taken them almost a month after that to speak of what they were feeling.

Zuko smiled at the memory. Mai asked, "What are you smiling about?"

"I've been thinking."

"About what?"

"The old days," he said. He finally looked up at her. A smile glowed softly in her eyes and curved gently on her lips. "Us."

"Oh." She paused, then said, "We used to have good times together, didn't we?"

"We did."

They were silent again for a few moments. Mai asked, "Does your scar hurt?"

"Not much now. Sometimes it gets irritated, by sand or dirt or something," he said. "It hurt for a long time." He grimaced. "But I got used to the pain."

"You know," she said, "you probably don't really remember him, but my grandfather Sanyo had a burn scar on his right forearm."

"Really? What happened?"

"He got into a fight with a fire bender when he was in the army."

"Why?"

"It was over a lemon squash tart."

"Are you serious?"

She nodded. "He was an ornery man with a sweet tooth."

Zuko shook his head. "Once, Uncle ate my dinner right off my plate."

Mai laughed, the sound seeming loud in the quiet room. He enjoyed it--it had been so long since he heard her laugh. She asked, "The entire thing?"

"Yes! I looked down and my roast duck was gone. He said, 'Oh, you didn't eat for so long, I thought you didn't want it.'"

"You didn't notice?"

"Well, no. I had a lot on my mind at the time."

She fell back against the couch, giggling. When she stopped laughing, she said quietly, "I've missed this. I've missed you."

"I've missed you, too."

They looked at each other for a moment, then she slowly leaned forward. Their lips just touched. She pulled back and looked at him, as though asking if he objected. Any objection that might have formed in his mind was drowned out by the drumming of his heart. She leaned in closer again, and his breathing quickened. There was a single still moment of anticipation and then the kiss began.

He had wondered if she could still kiss passionately, and if she would still want to kiss him. The answer to both questions was _yes_. A second, third, fourth kiss swiftly followed. Their arms wrapped around each other, one of his hands between her shoulder blades, the other on the curve of her lower back. Her hands slid slowly over his back and shoulders, searching for flesh under his armor. The kisses blurred together, breathless and uncountable, and the dam he had built against his desires cracked, sheer and simple wanting flooding through him. The world shrank to the two of them on the couch, their breathing and sighing and caressing.

Zuko had an idea that some time had passed, but he couldn't say and didn't care how much. He was stretched out on the couch, resting in a blurry, buzzing haze. Mai lay half on top of him, her head nestled against his shoulder. He stroked her loose, flowing hair. Most of their clothing was strewn on the floor.

She murmured in his ear, "We'd be more comfortable on the bed."

His face burned hot. He looked at her, alarmed. "Mai, we can't..."

She looked confused. "What are you talking about?"

"We can't, you know, take things too far."

She raised an eyebrow. "I just meant we could lie on the bed. I'm feeling cramped on this couch."

"Oh. Uh, you didn't mean..."

She sighed, sitting halfway up. "No." She looked nervous herself for a moment. "I mean, the _idea_ sounds like it would be--kind of fun, but I would really rather not get pregnant. I know I don't have anything to, you know, prevent that, and I'm pretty sure you don't either."

The very idea of Mai getting pregnant terrified Zuko in his bones. But that was not the only reason he was unwilling to go further with her. He sat up and she leaned against him. He said, "I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?"

"It's bad enough I've lost my honor. I shouldn't be doing things that could cost you yours."

"Oh, _please_ , Zuko. Don't start worrying about everyone else's honor too. I don't believe in chastity." She said it like he had just claimed she still believed in fire pixies at her age. "If I didn't want you here with me, I wouldn't have invited you." She kissed his cheek.

He sighed. She may not be concerned about what people would think if anyone discovered they had been together, but he couldn't help worrying. He knew he should probably leave now, but he couldn't let go of her yet, knowing there would not be another chance to hold her. It was selfish, lingering here for his own enjoyment. At least she was enjoying herself too.

She stood up, taking his hand. She took a step toward the bedroom. He followed her. Inside, she kissed his lips, then went back out to the sitting room to collect their clothes. When she returned, she closed the door behind her.

The bed _was_ much more comfortable. Mai fell asleep. Zuko wanted to let himself drift off, snuggled against her. But the night was almost over and her father would be back, sooner or later. He pressed himself against her one last time. He brushed a stray strand of hair from her cheek, kissed her forehead lightly, then got out of bed.

It took a few minutes to find all his clothes in the dark. She stirred and yawned--a real, drowsy yawn, not an affected, bored yawn. She moved to the end of the bed and wrapped her arms around his half-dressed body.

"The sun will be up soon," he whispered.

"My father will be busy most of the day tomorrow," she said. "Come see me again."

"I will." He finished dressing, double-checking to make sure he had everything. They kissed goodbye. "I promise."

At the door to the suite, he paused, listening. There was no sound in the hallway, and he quickly slipped downstairs to the lobby. He saw no one else except the night clerk, dozing behind her desk. Mai was right about her father being out very late. It was good for the two of them, but Zuko couldn't help being disappointed that even high-ranking Fire Nation ministers succumbed to the cheap pleasures offered in Sozin's Bay. His uncle's obsession with pai sho was ridiculous and irritating, but at least the man wasn't out drinking all night.

He remained on guard until he reached his ship. On deck, he saw his uncle standing by the railing. Iroh turned and said, "Good evening, Nephew."

"Good _morning_ , Uncle."

His uncle blinked. "Ah, you are right. It is easy to lose track of time when one is enjoying oneself." He grinned and crooned, "I have had a wonderful night. My final game was worthy of an epic poem. It's been many years since I faced an opponent as skilled and cunning and, if I may say, as beautiful as the woman from Kyoshi Island I battled tonight. She played valiantly, but victory was mine in the end and it was glorious." He held aloft a silver statue of a lion turtle, apparently his trophy, then brought it to his lips and kissed it repeatedly, with loud smacking sounds.

Zuko realized with a shock that his uncle was drunk. This was entirely inappropriate behavior for someone Iroh's age. He opened his mouth to say that, but he was simply too tired to deal with this right now. His uncle probably wouldn't listen to him anyway. "That's great, Uncle," he said. "I'm going to bed."

"Oh," the man said, smiling slyly. "You've been out late too, Prince Zuko. Catching up with old friends, eh?" Zuko blushed. His uncle laughed. "It looks like we have both had an enjoyable night for once. But do make sure you rest. Playing pai sho all night is tiring enough, but not nearly as tiring as some other games."

Iroh winked at him. Zuko fled to his quarters before his drunk uncle could say anything else.


	12. Father and Daughter

Mai was woken by sunlight streaming through the bedroom window. Her first thought was that the bed seemed cold without Zuko. She wanted to hold him close and kiss him again. She sighed--kissing him was even better than she had remembered. She stretched, recalling little details from last night: the nubbly stubble on the smooth skin of his scalp; the roughened calluses on his hands; the hard muscles lining his arms and legs and back. There was the strange but not unpleasant texture of his scar, reminding her of paper crumpled and smoothed again, and the heat of his breath, at moments verging on dangerous. But she was never afraid.

She felt like going back to sleep, but she wanted to be ready to meet Zuko as soon as her father left for today's business, so she got up. She wrapped herself in a robe and headed for the washroom next to the suite. On the way, she stopped to peek in her father's bedroom. He was asleep, lying on top of the sheets in his clothes, although he managed to take off his shoes and undo his hair before he collapsed. She hadn't heard him come in. He must have had quite a night, but she doubted he would tell her much about it. Mai smiled slightly, imagining the look on her mother's face if the woman could see this.

The housekeepers had filled the basins in the washroom, the water kept warm by coals underneath, and she cleaned up. She thought about what she and Zuko could do today, but she couldn't decide because she didn't really care what they did as long as they were together. They could sit up in the park or down by the boardwalk, or walk down one of the roads leading out of town into the countryside and see where it went--they could bring food, and wander all day, no need for a plan. The idea appealed to her very much.

She returned to her room and dressed. When she saw her father still sleeping, she went in to wake him. She had to call him and poke him for a few minutes before he stirred. He glimpsed the mid-morning sun and shielded his eyes with his hands. "Close the curtains, Mai," he mumbled.

"They are closed." Her father sat up, turning his back to the light, and groaned. She said, "I'll order some tea."

"That would be nice."

The tea arrived with a packet of headache powder, which she hadn't thought to request. The staff at the hotel clearly knew their customers well. Her father took the powder and sipped his tea for a few minutes in bleary eyed silence. He gave no sign he would be preparing to go out any time soon. She asked, "Aren't you going to be late for your meeting?"

He yawned. "Oh, it's been canceled. Minister Suren--you remember him?" Mai gave a half nod, half shrug. "Very tall fellow with glasses, from the Ministry of Mines--he's stationed out at that mine that was attacked recently. Anyway, he got some bad puffer fish and ended up in the hospital yesterday." He yawned again. "And I'm very glad for it. Well, not that he's ill--puffer fish poisoning is nasty business--but I'm not doing so good myself this morning. And that was my last meeting, so I am free for the day."

Mai's heart sank. "What were you planning to do?"

"Oh, I don't know. Spend time with my daughter." He smiled at her, then yawned. "This trip has been completely exhausting. I haven't had this many meetings in one week since Fire Lord Azulon decided that Fire Nation banks could no longer accept Earth Kingdom money. Oh," he said, "that was a nightmare."

She'd heard, many times, about the trauma the Ministry of Colonial Affairs endured when the currency in the colonies was standardized. But, at the moment, her father had new stories to tell. A brawl broke out during the hearing on pottery labeling between the delegates from the Hu Xin and the Tao Qi provinces. The chambers were evacuated and several people were arrested. Her father said, "I almost got hit by a flying chair!"

He didn't say much about what he had been doing all night, just that he expected some of his colleagues were feeling much worse than he did now. Mai barely listened, busy trying to think of an excuse to slip away and see Zuko. He cleared his throat and said, "I should tell you, I ran into someone quite unexpected yesterday. General Iroh."

She was jolted to attention by the name. She asked, "Where?"

"In the town square," he said. "He's playing in that pai sho tournament." Her father poured himself another cup of tea and continued, trying not to look like he was studying Mai's reaction to his next words, "He's here with Prince Zuko."

She guessed that General Iroh hadn't mentioned having dinner with her. If the General had, her father would say something. He wasn't one to play mind games with her. She asked, "How are they?"

"Well, the General was in fine spirits," her father answered. "I didn't see the Prince." She shifted uncomfortably. She never considered the possibility of the two men running into each other. With all the people bustling about at all hours, Sozin's Bay seemed much larger than it was. Her father looked pensive while he drank more tea. She worried he would tell her that she couldn't see Zuko under any circumstances, that the risk of scandal if anyone heard about it back home would be too great. Now that he knew Zuko was here, it would be almost impossible to get away without suspicion. She would have to send Zuko a note as soon as possible--she wasn't sure yet what she would do after that.

Her father finished his tea and said, "Mai, since I saw General Iroh, I've been thinking. Now, if you don't want to do this, I won't mention it again, but it might be nice if you said hello to Prince Zuko."

She stared at her father. She would have expected him to say he intended to retire and open his own go-go club here before she expected this suggestion. "I thought you and Mother wanted me to forget him."

"We," he said in a way she was sure meant 'I', "never expected you to _forget_. We just wanted to protect you. We didn't want you to pine, to get your hopes up for things that wouldn't happen."

 _Like Zuko ever coming back home_ , she thought. "Why let me see him now?"

"It's been two years," he said. "The uproar has died down. And we're in the colonies--the court pays much less attention to what happens out here. Really, no one back home even needs to know."

"What happens in Sozin's Bay, stays in Sozin's Bay."

Her father said seriously, "Being away from home is not a license for bad behavior." She was tempted to ask if his hangover was any better. He sighed. "I'll admit, I've always felt bad for Prince Zuko. He could probably use a gesture of--hospitality, shall we say."

That was possibly the biggest understatement she had ever heard. She said, keeping her voice neutral, "I would like to see him again."

"Very well. I'll invite him and his uncle to lunch in the botanical garden."

She wasn't sure how Zuko would react to that. "He may not want to see anyone from home," she said.

Her father looked thoughtful. "True. Well, if he doesn't want to see us, I won't be offended. But even if we don't have guests, we should have lunch in the garden. I haven't had time to see it yet." He held up a hand. "Oh, and we have the farewell dinner with Governor Rao tonight. I hope you've been getting along with his daughters." She gave another half nod, half shrug. "And we need to pack. And I almost forgot--Minister Meung wants a copy of my notes from the Fishery meeting..." He rummaged through a stack of scrolls on the bedside table.

Apparently his hangover _was_ better. He rattled off a half dozen more things to do before their ship sailed at midnight. Mai expected to be drafted as his secretary--so much for either of them being free for the day. She wondered whether Zuko would accept the invitation. If he didn't, she didn't know how she would escape to see him. If he did, she didn't know how he would act around her father. And there was the chance that her father would discover she had spent the night with him. She sighed, the anticipation she felt earlier replaced by anxiety.

Still, she had no regrets for last night.


	13. Invitation

Zuko fell asleep instantly upon dropping into his bed. Not having slept two nights in a row, he was exhausted and barely stirred when the sun rose. Unfortunately, the screeching whir of a drill directly beneath his quarters woke him up far too soon. He might have been able to sleep through the noise, but he could not sleep through the floor vibrating.

Most days, his first thoughts on waking were about capturing the Avatar. _Will today be the day?_ But this morning his mind flooded with memories from last night: Mai's dark hair spread out on a white pillow, her black-tipped fingers running along his stomach, her voice whispering soft yet urgent in his ear. He smiled to himself as he dressed--he knew she had been anything but bored. He was eager to see her again today, and the sharpness of his anticipation surprised and slightly embarrassed him. It had been a long time since he looked forward to something with genuine pleasure.

Zuko considered going straight to the hotel, but he decided to wait to give Mai time to get up (and her father time to leave). Iroh arrived in the dining room for breakfast not long after he did. "Good morning, Nephew," he said, stifling a yawn.

"Good morning, Uncle." The man looked rather ill. "Are you all right?"

"Oh, I'm fine." He sipped his steaming tea and added lightly, "I am just not as good at staying out all night as I was when I was your age." Zuko grimaced. He was never going to hear the end of this.

After breakfast, the two of them went to the bridge to speak with Lt. Jee about the progress of the repairs. Zuko almost wished there would be a delay--just for a little while. But Mai was leaving tonight, so there was no reason for him to stay in this ugly little town any longer. Jee reported that everything had gone smoothly in their absence and that the ship was still on schedule to sail the next day. When the lieutenant finished, they went out to the deck. Zuko glanced at the sun and decided to wait a few more minutes before going ashore, in case Mai's father was running late, having been out all night himself. He stood at the railing, watching small pleasure boats cruise the white-capped waves in the harbor, half-listening to his uncle talk about last night's epic pai sho game.

One of the men approached Iroh and handed him a scroll. His uncle read the note and said, "Well, this is interesting."

"What is it?"

"It's an invitation to lunch from Mai's father. For both of us," he added.

Zuko spun to face his uncle. " _What?_ "

Iroh said sheepishly, "Did I forget to mention that I ran into the Deputy Chancellor yesterday?"

"Yes, you did forget." Zuko worried that his actions had gotten Mai into trouble. "Did you tell him she came to the ship?"

"No. I haven't entirely forgotten how to be discreet in my old age, Nephew. And I assure you, this wasn't my suggestion. Mai's father sent this invitation of his own accord."

Zuko was certain Mai had not asked her father to do it. Without a word, he held out a hand and his uncle placed the scroll in it. He studied the message as though puzzling out a secret code. The invitation was very polite and very ordinary: simply requesting their company for lunch, and suggesting meeting in the botanical garden by the hotel. He considered what he knew about Mai's father, which wasn't much. The man always seemed to be at his office in the Ministry of Colonial Affairs or traveling on business. The few times Zuko had seen him, he was so formal it was difficult to know what he was really like. Zuko recalled that Mai's father had a fine collection of scholar stones--a random and useless piece of information.

He rolled the scroll up and gave it back to his uncle, seeing no way to answer the question pressing on his mind: whether Mai's father knew he had visited her. "Uncle Iroh, what do you think he wants?"

"He wants to have a picnic in a garden on a fine summer day."

"I mean," Zuko persisted, exasperated, "why do you think he wants to see us?"

"I do not know. But if you really want to find out, we should go." Zuko was silent, another line of thought emerging in his mind. Iroh continued, "It is probably just a social call, one Fire Nation noble away from home showing courtesy to another, nothing more."

"Was he _there_?"

His uncle did not have to ask where _there_ was. "It is likely, but I do not know for sure. Many people were there."

Zuko scowled and began to pace by the ship's railing. Hundreds of people were there--the Agni Kai had been a very public humiliation. The last time he'd met someone who was there, when his uncle was out of earshot... He hated Captain Zhao.

He said, his voice harsh and tight, "Go if you want, Uncle. I'm staying here."

Iroh stowed the invitation in a pocket. "I admit I barely know the Deputy Chancellor, but from what I do know, I do not think he is the kind of man who would bring it up if he were there."

Zuko abruptly stopped pacing and shouted, "Are you saying I'm afraid of facing some lackey bureaucrat?"

His uncle held up a conciliatory hand. "I am saying no such thing, Prince Zuko." He raised a brow slightly. "Although I will say that it would be inconsiderate to call our host that in his presence."

"I don't care what he thinks. I don't have time to waste on pointless social visits. I have to figure out how we're going to conduct the search once we get to the South Pole." He added, aiming the comment at his uncle, "No one else on this ship cares where we go or what we do."

Tendrils of steam coiled from his fists as he repeatedly clenched and unclenched them. All he had wanted was to see Mai again before she left. He wanted to see her; she wanted to see him; they were less than a mile away from each other right now. Meeting her should have been simple. It would have been simple, if he weren't banished-- _if_.

He imagined standing with her in the Sun Garden at the palace, blades embedded in a fire oak tree gleaming in the sunlight, red irises blooming against the green grass. He had never gone to the war meeting, never disrespected his father, never dueled, never been banished. He was the Crown Prince, spending a carefree summer afternoon with his beautiful girlfriend. They loved each other very much, although neither of them said the words.

He remembered standing with Capt. Zhao on the dock at a Fire Navy base off the northwestern Earth Kingdom coast while his ship re-fueled, the acrid smell of coal filling the air. The Captain said, " _If you insult someone, you had best be prepared to face a challenge. Whining and sniveling is for beggars and babies. If you cannot act like a prince of royal blood, you_ deserve _to be an outcast_."

Zuko let a fierce volley of fire out over the side of the ship. A scream from the dock below startled him. He peered over the railing, then backed away, red-faced, as a terrified dockworker ran down the pier.

His uncle glanced at the retreating figure and said mildly, "You should not do that when we are not at sea."

They stood in silence for several minutes. Finally, Zuko said, folding his arms over his chest, "I can't see people from home until I've restored my honor." Before Iroh could comment, he added, "Mai is...the exception."

He turned to walk away, but his uncle held up a hand. "This may be your last chance to see _her_ before we go. Now that her father knows you are here, he will surely keep a closer watch on her."

Zuko stopped, pinching the bridge of his nose. He had not thought of that, but it made sense. He had promised he would see her today--a promise he _wanted_ to keep--and if that meant seeing her father as well, so be it. He sighed, suddenly feeling his lack of sleep sharply. "All right. I'll go." He pulled away from the reassuring touch on the arm his uncle offered.

Iroh clapped his hands together and said cheerfully, "I wonder if the Deputy Chancellor plays pai sho."


	14. The Botanical Garden

Mai was sitting in the botanical garden next to the hotel at a low table, laden with food, with four cushions. Iroh's response to the invitation said both he and Zuko would be coming. Her father looked as nervous as she felt. He was probably afraid the Fire Lord would send them to prison for eating lunch with his son.

At the expected time, their guests appeared. Iroh looked cheerful, although slightly ill, and Zuko looked sullen, but also nervous. Greetings were exchanged and they sat, Mai facing Zuko. He looked at the parasol tree shading the table, at the tea service, at his hands, everywhere except her, as though he were afraid to meet her eyes with her father there. But when he finally did look at her, while her father served tea, he returned the small smile she gave him.

Iroh and her father did most of the talking, as she expected. The conversation between them flowed light and smooth. Even though they did not know each other beyond reputation, they were both skilled at pleasant small talk, and between the trade conference and the pai sho tournament they had enough anecdotes to swap for several meals. Iroh's stories were much funnier. Zuko picked at his food and spoke only a few words at his uncle's prompting. Mai ate barely anything herself.

When the meal was finished, the four of them strolled through the garden, she and Zuko walking behind the two men. The garden was separated from the city square by a high stone wall, which blocked out most of the street noise. It was not large and, like everything else in Sozin's Bay, was designed to be eye-catching rather than elegant. Flowers seem to have been chosen for their enormous size and violent color, without thought to how the parts of the garden harmonized.

Iroh revealed himself to be an amateur herbalist, pointing out all the different plants they saw that could be used for tea. "Ginseng has long been my favorite," the retired general said, "although lately I have been acquiring more of a taste for jasmine."

The tour did not take long. While the men lingered to admire a display of bonsai, she and Zuko went on a little ahead. They sat down on a wooden bench underneath a tall fern. Neither of them spoke for a time. Finally, Zuko asked, "What will you do when you get home?" He avoided looking at her by studying a low-hanging frond.

Mai sighed. "What I always do. Argue with my mother, throw knives at my wall, go back to school when the autumn term starts, listen to my brother cry." She shifted so she could see his face better. "What will you do when you leave here?"

"We're going to the South Pole to search for the Avatar." There was a strange mix of resignation and pride in him.

"How do you actually search for the Avatar anyway?"

"We...sail around...searching. You know, for anything...weird."

"Do you find a lot of weird things?"

"I found a two headed toucan-puffin near the Southern Air Temple."

"Really?"

"Yeah. The crew was excited," he said. "They named it Kiki." Dejection crept into his voice. "That's…the most interesting thing I've found. In two years."

She slid her hand across the bench and touched his lightly. "No clues?"

"Nothing." His expression darkened.

She offered mildly, "It has been a hundred years since anyone's seen the Avatar."

"I _know_. Uncle tells me that all the time."

She paused, then asked, "How long will you keep searching?"

Zuko looked at her, then away again. "As long as it takes."

"What if it takes the rest of your life?"

He snapped, pulling his hand away, "Then it takes the rest of my life! Don't start, Mai. I've had enough of this argument with Uncle. I _will_ find the Avatar. I know no one thinks I can do it, but I have to--it's the only way I can restore my honor." He was quiet for a moment, then turned to look at her, his expression softer. "Don't wait for me."

She just stared at him for a moment. " _What_?"

He looked uncertain. "If--if you were thinking of waiting for me, don't. There's no reason for both of us to be...alone."

"I wasn't thinking of _waiting_ for you," she said. She just didn't think it was likely she'd ever feel about anyone else the way she felt about him.

He studied her face before answering. "So you're going to start going out with the guys your mother tries to set you up with?"

She crossed her arms over her chest. "Maybe I will, if they're good-looking. Maybe I'll forget you. Zuko? Sorry, don't know anyone by that name."

His face reddened. "Are you...sorry about last night?"

"No," she answered immediately. "I am annoyed at you." She paused. "Are you sorry?"

"No."

She uncrossed her arms and reached out to put a hand on his again. "It was kind of _fun_."

He flashed her a wicked smile. She felt her face flush. If her father and his uncle had not been standing a few yards away, she would have kissed him hard, annoyed or not.

They squeezed each other's hands. She said, "I could run away and join you." She'd had this crazy idea long ago, but she never thought about it seriously until now.

Zuko dropped her hand. He looked aghast. " _No_." He shook his head vehemently. "I wouldn't take you with me. This isn't a life I'd wish on anyone."

"I don't know. It doesn't sound any more boring than mine."

"That's not the issue," he said, anger edging his tone. "I'm an outcast, a disgrace. I'd rather not see you at all than see you share my shame." He looked away from her.

She said quietly, "I thought you might like some company."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "You can't…be banished with someone, like you can't go to prison with someone."

"Your uncle is with you."

He swept out his arms. "He's training me to fight the Avatar. Besides, it's not like Uncle Iroh has anything else to do." Before she could answer that she didn't, either, he asked, "Was your father at the Agni Kai?"

"Yes."

He winced. "Why did he invite us here?"

"He wanted to see how you were." At Zuko's surprised look, she added, "He cried when he came home that night. He hated seeing…" All the words she thought of for what her father saw--what Zuko experienced--seemed ridiculous, so she didn't finish.

Zuko looked shocked. Mai leaned closer to him and slipped an arm through his. _She_ hadn't cried that night, but did later, after hearing people at court talk about the Agni Kai as though it were entertainment, like a melodramatic opera setpiece.

Azula had called her apathetic when she'd said, once, that she didn't _care_ what was right and what was wrong. How could she care, when almost everyone around her thought a father burning his son and then exiling him was right? She never thought it was right, and all the appeals to tradition and arguments about respect would not persuade her otherwise. She hadn't bothered explaining to Azula. The Princess would have just made fun of her for still not being over her silly crush on Zuko.

She said softly, "I'm sorry."

Zuko spoke as quietly as she did. "For what?"

"Not writing to you. Not helping you. Some girlfriend I am."

"You couldn't have done anything, Mai," he said. "No one could, not even my uncle. My father's word is law. You would have just gotten yourself in trouble and not done me any good."

"I'm glad I'm not the only optimist around here."

"I'm just saying none of this is your fault."

Her father and General Iroh left the bonsai. She and Zuko stood up, pulling away from each other. She frowned, angry at having their conversation interrupted. Her talk with Zuko was depressing, but for once she felt like what was said was important.

Zuko said, "I'll come and say goodbye tonight, before you leave."

She nodded, relieved to have one more chance to see him.

General Iroh and her father approached them, laughing about something. The four of them lingered for a few minutes, saying their farewells, and then Zuko and his uncle departed.

When they were gone, her father looked at her and asked, "Mai, are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Dad."

Her father looked doubtful. "Are you sure?"

She repeated curtly, " _I'm fine_." Taking a breath, she said evenly, "Prince Zuko wants to come and see us off tonight."

Her father seemed flattered by such attention from royalty, even banished royalty. "That's very courteous of him." He paused, "Is he, uh, still looking for the Avatar?"

"Yes."

"He does know that no one has seen..."

"He knows."

Her father cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, Mai. I know you were fond of him. It's a shame, losing someone you care about."

Something snapped in Mai at hearing her father talk as though Zuko had died, as though there had been a tragic accident for which no one could be blamed. The duel was not an accident, and there _was_ someone to blame. She rounded on him, her posture rigid. "Why did it even happen, Dad? _Why_? People talk about honor and respect, but how did what Zuko say warrant an _Agni Kai_?"

Her father put his hands up. "It was the Fire Lord's will."

She had to stop herself from filling the trees around them with projectile weapons. "Zuko's father doesn't want him to have the throne," she said, her voice hard.

Her father looked alarmed. "Mai, it's not our concern. Don't talk about these things."

"It's the only thing that makes any sense. He took one small act of defiance and used it as an excuse to ship his son off so his daughter can rule the country when he's dead."

"Mai, please."

"You have a better theory?"

"Mai, _stop_."

She folded her arms inside her sleeves. "No one wants me to talk about anything that matters--fine. I won't talk at all."

He sighed. "Don't be like this."

"Don't be like what? A person who cares about someone else and not just what she can get out of him?"

Her father was dumbstruck. "What has gotten into you?" He shook his head. "Letting you see Prince Zuko was a bad idea."

"You didn't _let_ me see him. You suggested I see him."

Her father disregarded that distinction. "This has upset you." He put a hand on her arm and she pulled away. "Mai, I know you don't like what's happened. I don't either, honestly. But there is nothing anyone can do to change it. You'll only hurt yourself and your family if you try to interfere."

There was no point arguing with him anymore. Her voice flat, she said, "I'm bored."

He spent a few moments looking at the fern tree, putting some distance behind her uncharacteristic and unwelcome outburst. Finally, he said, "We need to pack. And we're supposed to have dinner with Governor Rao." He smiled slightly. "Perhaps a pleasant evening with his daughters will cheer you up. They're such nice girls."

Mai sighed harshly in frustration. Her father wanted to pretend nothing was wrong, and she would spend yet another evening sitting quietly surrounded by people she could barely stand.

She might as well already be back home.


	15. The Price of Destiny

On returning to the ship, Zuko went straight to his quarters. His uncle attempted to start a conversation with him, but he ignored it. He was in no mood for a discussion with anyone.

Drained and wanting sleep, he undressed and settled in bed. Sleep eluded him. His thoughts and feelings bent themselves into a maze, keeping him from rest. After staring at the ceiling for a long while, he got up and began to pace the room barefoot.

He wasn't angry. It would have been almost reassuring if he were. Most days, his drive to find the Avatar felt like a raging fire that would burn everything in its path. He was grateful for it--it gave him strength when he could find it nowhere else. Now, that drive felt like a flame sputtering in strong wind. But it still burned.

_"How long will you keep searching?…What if takes the rest of your life?"_

His life _was_ the search for the Avatar. As long as there was even the smallest chance he would restore his honor, he would keep searching. He glanced up at the Fire Nation tapestry on his wall. Mai didn't understand. Zuko couldn't blame her. His uncle didn't understand either, and he was supposedly a wise old man. He had never given up, not ever. He could live with being unlucky--even with being despised--but he could not live with surrender.

_"I could run away and join you...I thought you might like some company."_

He shook his head. Mai would say that in such a casual way, as though running off with a banished prince were like going to Ember Island for a week. If he didn't know better, he'd think she was stupid. Perhaps she wasn't serious, and only said that to try to make him feel better in some weird way. But he knew she meant the offer. It was just so foolish.

A small voice on the edge of his mind suggested that it wasn't any more foolish than devoting his life to searching for someone who had been missing for a hundred years, a voice he quickly silenced.

Zuko leaned over his desk, smoothing out the map of the South Pole with his palms. The paper was all blue water and white ice, with a handful of black dots marking the remaining Southern Water Tribe villages. He tried to imagine the land represented by the lines on the map. According to everything he'd heard, it was an empty expanse where the frozen land was difficult to distinguish from the frozen sea. The only people there were primitive hunters struggling to survive. This was where he was going--where Mai had offered to follow.

He rolled the map up and shoved it to a corner of the desk. His uncle did not want to go to the South Pole, insisting that the journey was pointless. The Avatar would not be hiding alone in an icy wasteland with no people and no food. And if the Avatar had been with the Southern Water Tribe, the Fire Nation would have discovered that on the hundreds of raids that were conducted. The two of them had many arguments about it, until Zuko threatened to leave the ship and go on his own.

Opening the desk drawer, he ran his fingers over the other maps inside. Most were for places they had already been, but there were also maps of the North Pole and the outskirts of Ba Sing Se, both with large areas marked "incomplete" or "unknown". He imagined the arguments he would have with Iroh. Going to the two places that had wholly resisted the Fire Nation would be much more dangerous than sailing to the South Pole. But he accepted the risk and would go, alone if necessary.

He sighed, closing the drawer. Mai could and would fight, but he couldn't drag her into a life of danger and uncertainty when the promise of reward was so small. He would fight to get his honor back (and he would get it back, someday, although perhaps he would not live to enjoy it). He wouldn't ask anyone else to fight for him.

Chasing the Avatar may be his destiny, but it wasn't hers.

A soft knock on the door announced his uncle. Zuko considered pretending to be asleep, but the man might come in to check on him if he didn't answer, so he turned to the door and called, "Come in."

"I do not wish to disturb you, Nephew, but since you are awake I wanted to tell you that the repairs have been completed."

Zuko hadn't noticed that the whirring drills and clanging hammers had finally stopped, leaving the ship quiet. The lack of noise was strange; it was never this quiet when they were at sea.

His uncle added, "The rest of the supplies should be delivered tomorrow morning, and then we will be ready to sail." With a hopeful look, he ventured, "Unless you have changed your mind about our course." Zuko crossed his arms over his chest and scowled. Iroh held up his hands and said, "No harm in asking."

Clearing his throat, Zuko said, "We're going to say goodbye to Mai and her father tonight. They sail at midnight."

"Of course, it would only be polite to see our hosts off." His uncle smiled. "I told you there was no reason to worry about visiting the Deputy Chancellor. I enjoyed myself a great deal." He patted his belly, as though in memory of the meal.

Iroh looked like he expected some kind of commentary in response, whether agreement or disagreement, but Zuko said nothing. He was thinking about Mai saying that her father _cried_ after the Agni Kai. He resented pity from anyone, but he couldn't muster real anger at the Deputy Chancellor's tears. The idea of a government minister weeping--for someone who wasn't even family--was just too strange. Questions half-formed in his mind, but he didn't know who to ask or the words to ask them.

His uncle broke the silence. "I'm glad we stopped here, so we could have a little fun before heading off to the ice and snow." He shivered slightly for emphasis. Zuko almost rolled his eyes. The cold didn't really bother the man--not with his powerful fire breath--but he still liked to complain about it. "It's a pity we couldn't stay a bit longer. There are many interesting people here, and many of them love pai sho."

Zuko sat down at his desk, resting an elbow on the top. Iroh walked over to him. "Nephew, you've been very quiet. Is something on your mind?"

"I'm just thinking about the voyage." He quickly unrolled the map of the South Pole.

"I see." His uncle's expression was suddenly serious. "May I ask you a question, Prince Zuko?"

"Uh, ok."

"You haven't made plans to bring anything _extra_ with us when we leave, have you?"

Zuko stared at his uncle for a moment before realizing what was being asked. " _No_ ," he answered, with an edge in his voice. Iroh studied him silently until he added, "Mai asked. I said no."

His uncle nodded, looking relieved. "I do not object to the sentiment behind her offer, but it would cause a great deal of trouble for everyone--her especially--if she were to accompany us."

If Mai's family didn't send a squad of bounty hunters after her, Azula probably would. Worse, Azula might come after Mai herself. Zuko shook his head and said quietly, "Even if it didn't, she wouldn't be happy here." _He_ wasn't happy here, but he had no choice in how to spend his life. She still did. If she ran away from home for him, she would never be able to go back.

"You are probably right about that, Nephew."

There was something in Iroh's expression as he said those words that Zuko couldn't quite grasp, something that seemed heavyhearted and deep-rooted. While trying to understand it, a thought he had never had before suddenly burst into his mind. Looking up at his uncle, he hesitated, then said, "Uncle, could I ask _you_ a question?"

"Of course."

"Do you...regret coming with me?"

"No," was the simple answer. "I have regrets in my life, but leaving the Fire Nation with you is not one of them."

"If…if you ever want to leave, Uncle, you're free to go." He thought of the incomplete map of Ba Sing Se in the drawer. There would come a time when he and his uncle parted ways.

He leaned back in his chair, annoyed at this melancholy that had settled over him. Iroh rested a hand on his arm. "I'm retired. The reason people retire is to spend time with family." He smiled, but his eyes were sad. "You look tired, Prince Zuko. Try to get some rest. We have to be up late tonight." He yawned, stretching his arms. "I think I will take a nap myself."

Zuko nodded. His uncle left the room. He sat for a while, looking at the map of the South Pole--the map of his future--without seeing it, suddenly feeling very lonely. His focus on finding the Avatar allowed him to ignore it most of the time, but not now. Not when he would soon have to say goodbye to the girl whom he had once loved and loved still.

He was amazed that, two years later, the price he was paying for that day in the war meeting was still getting higher.


	16. This Time Next Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!

In the evening, Mai and her father dined at Governor Rao's house. The banquet was lavish with seafood, fish, pickled vegetables, tofu, noodles, soup and sake, but less formal than the welcoming ceremony. A band played cheerful music in a corner of the hall, and people traveled around the tables to talk to one another. The crowd was large and loud enough to prevent anyone from taking much notice of one girl who wished to be alone with her thoughts. Mai may not be allowed to speak freely, but at least she could _think_ whatever she wanted. Rao's daughters would have pestered her, but they were distracted by a pair of handsome delegates from the Colonial Fishery Committee.

Across the table, her father leaned over to speak into the ear of the man sitting next to him. Bald, with a white mustache and a long, solemn face, the man was no doubt an important official on some committee or board or something. Her father rarely spoke to anyone who wasn't important. On her right, the high-pitched giggles of the Rao twins floated over the rest of the dinner conversation like excited bubbles. She didn't turn her head to see their merriment.

Mai remembered when Princess Ursa vanished, how her father had hushed her questions with the same fearful pleas she heard today: _It's not our concern. You're talking scandal._ She knew many girls would give up a limb for the chance to be the Crown Prince's girlfriend, but she wished Zuko were the son of a banker or a lawyer or some other boring profession. If he were, they could be together in peace. She sighed and pushed her food around her plate, lacking appetite.

Her father would not tell her mother that they had seen Zuko. He knew it was a volatile issue between them, and he was always keen to avoid family drama. There had been enough of it since Tom Tom was born, without re-opening the old feud born from the banishment. For her part, Mai would not say anything to Azula. She had never been able to figure out just how the Princess felt about Zuko being exiled and she would not take any chances. Azula relished being the heir to the throne and her father's favorite, but sometimes she seemed to miss her older brother. Frowning, Mai sipped her green tea. Zuko's family was entirely too crazy and complicated.

The dinner party ran on into the night, fueled by continuously flowing sake. After being reminded that some of his guests had a ship to catch, Governor Rao finally concluded the festivities. He invited everyone to come back to town on vacation sometime, taking a few moments to rhapsodize about Sozin's Bay being a carefree oasis of pleasure and good cheer, untouched by the troubles of the outside world. Mai supposed he was right, in a way. Most of the people in town were too busy drinking, gambling, and dancing like idiots to fight with each other much.

All the way back to the hotel, her father rambled about memos he would send out and meetings he would call when they got back home. When she reminded him that Prince Zuko and General Iroh were coming to see them off, he smiled and said that it was very courteous of them. Their argument in the botanical garden seemed to have been pushed clean out of his mind by business matters. She wasn't sure which was worse: her mother never forgetting when and why she lost her temper or her father never remembering.

While her father arranged for their luggage to be sent to the ship, she sat down on a low sofa in the hotel lobby, which was crowded with conference attendees checking out. A steady stream of porters pushed handcarts piled with trunks and bags out the doors. Officials of various ranks--mostly men, but a few women as well--bid each other farewell. Several of them she recognized from the dinner party. Through the lobby windows, the lights of the town twinkled in the darkness. She watched the street, the anticipation of seeing Zuko again warring with the dread of parting.

He and his uncle appeared, on the corner where she had seen him for the first time in two years yesterday morning--yesterday felt like the distant past now. Her chest constricted and her throat tightened. She closed her eyes, willing herself to be calm and steady. If she had to say goodbye, she would do it on her terms.

The four of them walked at an easy pace to the docks, the two men in front. Zuko avoided looking at her directly, his face full of sadness and regret. He was lost in his own brooding, so she turned her face to him and said, "I've decided I think your hair's ok."

He flashed her an exasperated look. "Here we go again."

"I'm just saying."

"It took you this long to make up your mind?"

"You can't make snap judgments about these things."

"So if I grew a beard it would take a few months for you to see if you liked it?"

She shuddered. "You are _not_ growing a beard."

"So you do have strong feelings about _something_."

"About _some_ things." She bumped him with her hip, throwing him off step. He quickly recovered, then shook his head. But a small smile formed on his lips; she felt gratified. She slipped her hand into his and he squeezed it gently.

The pier was much like the hotel lobby, thronged with people milling about chatting while dock workers moved baggage and last minute cargo. There was still some time before she and her father had to board the ship. Clutching Zuko's hand, Mai refused to think about how her time with him was rapidly disappearing, minute by minute.

Her father laughed at something General Iroh said. She remarked, "They seem to have hit it off."

"My uncle gets along with people."

The two men stood a few feet away, deep in conversation and not paying attention to them. She glanced around the dock, then jerked her head toward a tall pile of crates waiting to be loaded onto the ship. She and Zuko ducked behind it.

It was like old times, slipping away from everyone for a precious few moments of privacy. She touched both of his cheeks gently. He wrapped his arms around her and they kissed, lingering in it. She tried to memorize what this felt like: his smooth, warm lips, his hot breathe exhaled against her skin.

They finally pulled away, but held on to each other's hands. He said, the threat of tears in his voice, "I didn't have to say goodbye to anyone when I left home."

Mai swallowed, the lump in her own throat pressing against her self-control. If he started crying, she would start crying. She couldn't stop them from going their separate ways now, but she refused to be the girl who stood on the dock weeping while the boy she loved sailed away.

A resolve that she rarely felt suddenly burned in her. She asked, "How long will you be at the South Pole?"

"I don't know. It could be a year. We have a lot of ground to cover."

"Well, I'll write to you in a year." And this time, she wouldn't get caught. "I would do it while you're at the Pole, but a messenger hawk would probably freeze to death before it reached you."

He took in a breath, and admitted reluctantly, "I--I probably won't find the Avatar there."

She shrugged. "I'll write anyway." At his confused and suspicious look, she elaborated. "So we can make plans to meet up again. I mean, you can't come back to the Fire Nation, but I can go outside it."

He let go of her hands. "Mai, you _can't_."

"No, really, I _can_."

He scowled and countered, "Well, you _shouldn't_."

She rolled her eyes. "This is a productive conversation, really."

He put a hand to his forehead, squeezing the bridge of his nose between his fingers, and said, "You'd be giving everything up, and I can't give you anything to make up for it."

"I said I want to _see_ you in a year, not _marry_ you in a year." His mouth fell open at the "m" word. She took his hands again. "Look, you don't want me coming with you, so either we agree to meet when you come back from the South Pole, or we say goodbye now for who knows how long. And…"

Her heart beat faster and her face flushed. This was ridiculous; she was just putting something that he should know by now on record. Still, she avoided his gaze as she said, "And, you know, I--care about you, so I want to see you again." A coward after all, she couldn't bring herself to say the word _love_.

He blinked at her, then said softly, " _I_ care about _you_. That's why I want to protect you."

"I can take care of myself."

"Your parents wouldn't approve."

"I don't think they need to know."

"How would you get away?"

"I'm pretty sure I can think of a plan in a _year_." She stroked his hands.

After a moment, he relented, nodding. "I'll talk to Uncle about where we should go."

Smiling, she slipped her arms around him and he pressed her close. On the other side of the crates, her father was laughing. She hoped General Iroh would keep him entertained for a few more minutes.

Resting her head on his shoulder, she closed her eyes. It may not seem like much to most people, but thinking of seeing Zuko in a year was infinitely preferable to thinking she would never see him again. She doubted he would give up his futile search, or that he would suddenly welcome her on his ship. But she would worry about all of that when the time came. As long as they were in contact, they could figure out some way forward.

Mai didn't believe in most of the things that the people around her wanted so dearly: power, perfection, reputation, wealth, status. She wasn't convinced anything really _good_ came from them, especially when weighed against everything people sacrificed for their sake. Sometimes, she almost didn't believe in love--but that one was different.

She loved Zuko. Before he was banished and after, and she didn't believe the feeling would wither and die with time. She never wanted to be a romantic girl, swooning and mooning over boys she couldn't have--she found the idea distasteful. She wasn't looking for a perfect, true, eternal love--she wasn't sure such a thing existed. But she could feel her love in her heart and bones and blood, and she believed it could endure for a human lifetime. It was true enough and eternal enough for her.


End file.
